


Drawing Battle Lines

by the-eagle-of-masyaf (Dunkelherz)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Collars, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Dominant/submissive Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Omega Verse, Organized Crime, Police, Rating: NC17, Sexual Content, Spanking, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunkelherz/pseuds/the-eagle-of-masyaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where everybody is born submissive or Dominant, Altair struggles to find his one true place. Working as a cop in a department surrounded by Dominants doesn't really help. When assigned to the latest case, Altair doesn't realize yet that it will change him and his life forever. (Omega Verse shenanigans)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jane Doe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the X-Men Kink Meme:
> 
> Once a Dominant and Submissive pair is born, they are linked to each other, no matter how far apart they are. This link doesn't actually tell the Dom or the Sub each other's thoughts, but it does allow them to know how the other's doing and serves as a reassurance that there's someone meant for them out there - breaking a link like that can kill a Submissive.
> 
> Yes I know, I changed the title. I normally don't do it. But it was bothering me right from the beginning. So The Ring is now known as Drawing Battle Lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xxx change of scene
> 
> \--- flashback

As soon as he entered the room the screaming in his head stopped.

 

It was always like this when he started working, that's why he loved his job so much and why he was torturing himself every day. For almost all the time he was battling windmills but when he got to work he felt calm, almost at ease – it felt as if he really belonged there, between all the others who thought he was just like them.

 

“It gets worse every time, doesn't it?”

 

Altair was crouching down next to the body, hands folded together as he was overlooking the young woman while pursing his lips. He released a low breath of air as he rubbed his hand over his short cut buzz . “Seems like it”, he muttered, his eyes following the patterns of blood blooming like a flower from underneath her body. It was old and already dry, like the stains to a closed past window. Her hair had been blond but now it almost held the color of strawberries, somebody had cut it for her but it looked more like as if they had just ripped out huge junks of it or used a blunt knife to do s o. The cut was uneven and messy and the make up around her eyes was smeared.

 

He popped the small plastic bottle in his pocket open, taking one candy outside. Peppermint. Altair cocked his head to one side while he let his tongue curl around the sweet, sucking it between his teeth.  She'd gone to the nail studio once a month to get a manicure for her French Nails but most of them were broken now, the nail of her right index finger was ripped out completely. Somebody had tied her wrists, the bruises told Altair that. Whoever had done this, hadn't cared for her very much - she wasn't even wearing some clothes. Her eyes weren't closed, they looked empty, almost relieved. She'd endured a lot before her body had finally given up, death had been a blessing for her. He could almost hear her silent sigh as life had left her body. Her skin color had already turned, an ugly blue and purple and he saw maggots wiggling their way from underneath her body. The smell was nothing he could endure and the peppermint was helping to not let it make him feel nauseous. It was always the same sort of sweet sentences and after all those years working in the field Altair would think he’d gotten used to it but no, you’ll never get used to see a dead body, a person who’d endured all seven hells before finally finding their death. Altair had sworn to himself that the day he’d stop caring about them it’d be his last day of work.

 

“They only purchased her a few days ago”, Walker pondered and lit up a cigarette. At this state she must have been here for… two, three days maybe.

 

Altair nodded, she was still wearing the golden collar around her neck. He gently brushed his latex covered fingers over her throat, imagine how she'd smelled when she'd been alive, how she'd looked when she was laughing. She probably was the nice girl from next door, somewhere parents were waiting for her to return home. “She was Broken”, he said and slowly stood up so the coroner could get to his work.

 

“Doubles the price”, Walker hummed and offered Altair a cigarette as well but he declined, he only smoked when he was drunk and that hardly ever happened.

 

“It doubles the price”, Altair nodded and wiped his face with one hand after pulling off the glove , looking around the small basement with its naked gray walls, chains hanging from the ceiling and a small cage in one corner. The windows were too high for her as if she'd been able to look outside even if she'd been allowed out of her cage. Altair walked over to one of them, even he had to stand on his toes and then he could only see the feet of people walking by. “Triple glass”, he noted. “She could have screamed all she wanted, nobody would have heard her anyway.”

 

“The owner says he hardly uses the basement. He'd only went down here because he got complains about the smell. When he found her he called us right away”, Walker told him and Altair slowly turned back to him.

 

“From what it looks like this basement was used more than just one time”, he muttered and followed the line of scratch marks down on the floor. There were several of them, some looking old and faded but the new marks had blood on them. It probably was why she was missing pieces of her nails. “Do we have a name for our Jane yet?”

 

Walker shook his head. “No, but Lucy's checking the reports of girls who went missing within the last three months.”

 

“Lucy should narrow it down to three weeks if her Link really was broken. You've seen her feet?”

 

Walker frowned. “No. Why?”

 

Altair pointed at them. “Ask the doc about them.”

 

Walker turned towards the woman kneeling next to their Jane Doe. She looked up at both men, eyebrows arched. With a sigh she got up, moving down to the body's feet. “Oh”, she said once she saw what Altair was referring to. “Whoever sold her gave her heroine so she could last longer. You can see where they injected it into her feet. ” Her fingers moved gently around the marks there. Whoever had given her the drugs didn’t use a clean needle, the injection marks were infected and looked an ugly red even after death.  “She was probably high as a kite, her buyer must have had a lot of fun with her.”

 

“Shit”, Walker muttered and rubbed his chin, taking another big drag of his cigarette. “I hate it when they do that.”

 

“It's the only way to sell Betas”, Altair noted. “If they use the right dose they slow down their deaths. Makes them suffer longer.” And if they gave them too much then shit, they would just die from an overdose. Calculated risks.

 

“Sick fucks”, Walker hissed and flipped his cigarette to the ground. “A year ago we only had to deal with maybe a dozen cases within a year but it's only June now and she's already number sixteen.”

 

“I know”, Altair nodded and watched how their coroner stood back up.

 

“I have to examine her properly. I'd say she died from suffocation but I guess you two already knew that.”

 

“It's hard not to with those beautiful prints on her throat”, Altair commented dryly. “How long ago Crane?”

 

Their coroner sighed. “Probably the day before yesterday but I need to take a look at the maggots to narrow it down to an exact date.”

 

“She looks worse than just two days doesn't she?” Walker said and wrinkled up his nose.

 

Altair scoffed. “Of course she does, her Link was broken. You know what it does to people...”

 

“Anyway”, Crane sighed and brought Altair's focus back to her and away from the corpse “I will tell the guys to go wrap her up. I take it you two are done here?” Altair nodded. “Goodie”, she said with a roll of her eyes while Walker stepped next to Altair's side.

 

“Do you think what I'm thinking?” H e asked him.

 

Alair looked one last time back at Jane. “Yeah. She won't be our last victim.”

 

“Exactly,” Walker nodded as they pushed their way through the people doing their work, a group of white clothed men and women meeting them who were ready to safe all the evidence they could find down here. Their shadows rose high upon the walls whenever somebody hit the trigger of their camera, taking pictures of the basement and Jane with its flash illuminating the whole room into bright white light.

 

“We need a list of people renting the apartments here for the last past year,” Altair said when they walked pass the barrier with a group of bystanders behind trying to get a glimpse of what was going on inside the building.

 

“Well that’s going to be tough.” Walker shook his head. “The landlords rents the place out to mostly immigrants, most of them not even legal. Even with the names, we don’t know for sure who ever lived here or not.”

 

“Do you think illegals could have done this?” Altair watched with an arched eyebrow from the corner of his eye. “I don’t think this was an amateur doing this.”

 

“No,” Walker agreed. “But remember the case of the Russian mafia ten years ago.”

 

“Yeah and once they were gone the Italians came,” Altair sighed and looked up the high buildings once they made their way from the courtyard and back onto the streets. It was a busy morning, cars passing them and honking in the distance with people running down the streets with coffees to go in their hands and a frown on their faces, a whole group of suits was swarming around them like bees. Upper downtown wasn’t exactly the place for them to find their Jane Doe. Usually, those cases took place in the suburbs. But then again, in a city as blind as this one, nobody would even notice if someone would just vanish off the earth.

 

“She wasn’t missing a finger,” he added.

 

“She wasn’t owning them any money,” Walker muttered and lit his second cigarette within thirty minutes. “They cut off the fingers of those who miss their pay day. Do you think that was the case with her?”

 

“I don’t think this was the mafia,” Altair said as he opened the door to the car, a black Mercedes with a small blue siren on its roof. He took it off once he sat behind the wheel. Blue smoke was filling his nostrils as Walker sat next to him, flipping the ashes off in the ashtray underneath the radio.

 

“No,” Walker agreed, “I don’t think so either.”

 

xxx

 

 

There wasn’t much Altair hated about his job except this.

 

They got a call from Crane around noon, they had their Jane’s name. Twenty two year old girl, studying medicine at the local university in her second year. Last year she got her Link and she was reported missing a week ago. Now Altair found himself sitting in a nicely decorated living room with white curtains and white wicker chairs, a steaming tea pot standing in the middle of the table and picture frames showing a happy family hanging all over the walls. Her mother was crying and the photograph of Stephanie, that was her name, was still resting face up on the table. Her parents had confirmed it was really their daughter they’ve found this morning. Her father didn’t say anything. He was motionless and staring off into empty space with a golden collar around his neck, his fingers rubbing along the handle of his cup of tea – the tea itself untouched.

 

“Did Stephanie tell you about new friends she’s made before she disappeared?” It was Walker, his voice quiet and calm like a grandfather telling a story to their grandkids. He wasn’t that age yet, in fact he was far away from it and a few years younger than Altair but the image got stuck to him. He’d always admired Walker and how he could handle those talks – Altair, personally, hated them with a passion. It was never easy to tell somebody their loved ones were not only dead but brutally murdered. He was certain sleep wouldn’t come easy for him tonight, not after looking in those parent’s eyes after he’s told them they’ve found a dead woman fitting the descriptions of their missing daughter.

 

Mrs. Louren shook her head, “She was busy preparing for her finals.” Her voice was a whisper, a woman who was broken and probably would never recover from losing her only child. “It- it wasn’t always easy for her. She was determined to get good grades, she… she wanted to show everybody that a Sub can be a doctor, too.”

 

“It’s not always easy for them,” Walker agreed. “I personally think it’s old fashioned for people to think a Sub can achieve less than a Dom.” He pulled his own cup of tea closer to himself. “It’s women like your daughter who makes the world change. You can be proud of her.”

 

“I’ve raised her to believe in herself,” Mrs. Louren said and her eyes were red rimmed when she met Walkers. “That there’s nothing in their world that could stop her. I… I was wrong,” she added and her voice was about to die from the pressure of tears welling up in her throat. With a screech of his chair, Mr. Louren got up, his gaze empty and he was looking at nothing as he said, “I think there still some cookies left.” Altair watched him walking to the kitchen, fashioned country style and Altair thought it fit the image of a loving family home perfectly – except for the girl missing now that once lived here and filled their parent’s life with joy. Mrs. Louren looked up after her husband, then turned her eyes back to Walker. “She’s been so happy lately.”

 

“You’ve told me she got engaged, three months ago to her Link? His name’s Jonathan isn’t it?” He looked down his papers he’s spread out in front of him.

 

Mrs. Louren nodded, “They found each other last year. He was the one reporting her missing when he felt her cut off from him.”

 

“That was a week ago,” Walker noted.

 

Stephanie’s mother nodded. “He called us right away. When he’s told me I knew it wouldn’t end well, I just-“ But she stopped, midsentence, and picked up her spoon to stir in her tea, silent tears rolling down her cheeks and the only sound which broke the silent was the ticking of the clock hanging from the wall across from Altair.

 

“We need to talk to him as well.”

 

She looked up at that. “He still doesn’t know yet, doesn’t he?”

 

Walker shook his head. “We’ve sent a unit to his apartment.”

 

“He’ll be devastated”, she whispered and then, for the first time looked straight into Altair’s eyes. “How can you recover from something like this?”

 

He cleared his throat, glancing at Walker sideways. “I don’t know ma’am, but we promise we will do everything we can to find those who did this to your daughter,” and Mrs. Louren nodded at that.

 

“You do that,” she said in a low voice. “And you will bring justice to them.”

 

xxx

 

 

This was probably one of the worst days he's had in weeks Altair decided when the door of the 13th police department fell shut behind him and he stepped out into the busy streets, the heat still lingering between the suburban canyons while the sun was standing low, dipping everything into a soft orange glow. He was aching all over, his skin tingling and muscles itching. The pain behind his left eye was building and seriously, if somebody would mistake him for a junkie on cold turkey Altair wouldn't blame them. He needed his fix.

 

“Are you coming with us tonight?”

 

Altair felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing once and the touch itself sent a shiver down his spine. When he glanced to his right, his gaze following the arm belonging to the hand on his shoulder he met Walker's eyes. “Coming where?”

 

“Me and Rooke thought we'd go to for a drink and no offense Altair, but you look as if you could use one as well. That poor girl we got this morning fucked me up.” He shook his head and Altair could tell, the screams of Stephanie’s finance where still haunting them just as they did Altair. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking from between Walker and Rooke. “I think I just want to go home-”

 

“Nonsense!” Rooke said with his heavy booming voice. He was a monster of a man with big wide shoulders, bald head and always a red face. He honestly looked more like a bouncer than a detective but Altair had learned to work with him. “You coming with us boy”, he grinned and put his arm around Altair's shoulder, pulling him close to his body.

 

Fuck. Altair's fingers tingled and everything in him screamed to nod and just follow Walker and Rooke wherever the hell they wanted to go but instead he did the exact opposite, his face almost turning into a grimace of pain. “I really want to go home Rooke.”

 

“Oooh...” Walker watched him with wide round eyes. “Migraine again?” Altair looked physical ill and he felt even worse.

 

“Something- something like that”, he nodded and shoved one hand into his pocket, his fingers curling into a tight fist. “You look like as if you're about to faint any second now.”

 

“All the more reason for him to have a drink with us”, Rooke laughed and damn it, Rooke had the tact of a Redneck sometimes. The hold he had of Altair only increased and while Rooke was clearly the exact opposite of what Altair wanted, his primary instinct was telling him another story. His knees felt weak and he was about ready to just submit.

 

“I think if Altair's going to have a drink we'll have to drag him home”, Walker muttered and eyed him from head to toe. “Are you sure it's just a migraine Altair?”

 

“Y-yeah I'm sure”, he gasped, Rooke's scent invading his nose, almost causing for his eyes to roll back in their sockets. He was about to fall, was about to lose himself, he knew it and he really wished Rooke would just let go of him, he couldn't take it any second longer, his knees getting weaker within the second and … shit, shit, shit!

 

“I need to go home”, Altair said quickly and with one fast movement, shook Rooke's arm off and made one large step forwards away from the man and out into the busy street of New York, leaving both his colleagues behind him. 

 

“Maybe next time then,” he heard the laughing voice of Rooke behind him, slowly vanishing into the sounds of passing cars as he walked down the street and towards the train station. Cold sweat was standing on his brown by the time he got a seat in his train, the doors closing with a loud beep that hammered right into his skull. It’s been a shitty day, alright and it would probably take him a beer or two, maybe even more, at home to forget Mr. Louren’s eyes and the emptiness that met him whenever he looked at the father who’d just lost his daughter. He thought it was worse talking to the parents than to the Link’s of their victims – when they’ve had one that was, and today hasn’t been an exception. Jonathan has insisted on looking at the photo of Stephanie even though there was no reason for it to show him since they’ve already confirmed Stephanie’s identity. But Altair could understand, he needed to see and make sure she was gone, in fact. Altair was certain that a rather big part of him had still hoped to feel that tingle at the back of his head again, hoping she was somewhere safe. They’ve destroyed those hopes today, forever and the heartbroken scream he’d let loose would follow him to his dreams tonight.

 

He was greeted by an empty home when he finally arrived at his apartment, barely able to stand at his feet. He sat down heavily on his couch, enjoying the silence for a few moments before his cat decided to jump right onto his lap with a long purr and a rub of his head to his hand. He rose his arm lazily, the grey cat sneaking right underneath him and sitting press against his side, eyes closed to small slits and simply enjoying the pats to his head.

 

His headache hasn’t gotten any better exactly but taking a pill or two was of no sense. There wasn’t a cure for what was bothering him, there wasn’t anything he could do against it. But it was a rough world he was living it and he had to make decisions – and his decisions has been to endure the pain in order to be successful. There was only so much he could do and Altair leaned his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he tried to focus onto something else, anything but the pain pushing against the inside of his skull.

 

 

He got a call around four in the morning with a big lump of cat sleeping right on the middle of his chest.

 

“Sir.”

 

It was Lucy, she didn’t even have to say her name for him to know. He suppressed a yawn and rubbed his face, searching for the switch to his lights with one hand clumsily. “What is it?”

 

“We’ve got another one,” she said in a small voice and Altair sat up straight in his bed, Specter rolling down his chest and complained about the sudden movement with a loud meow.  He quickly tried to find a piece of paper and pencil once he made it out of bed and pushed his phone between ear and shoulder so he could write down the address Lucy gave him.

 

“Does Walker know?” He asked.

 

“He’s already at the scene sir.”

 

“Tell him I’ll be right there,” he muttered and tried not to trip over the cat who was finding its way through his legs, walking in circles around him.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Altair turned his phone off, leaning with one hand on his kitchen counter and looked outside his window, the city lying alighted in front of him with a black night’s sky. It was new moon today and somehow, he found that fitting. He looked down at Specter and leaned down to rub the gray furball’s head. “Don’t wait for me darling,” he said. “I’ll be home late.” Then he cocked his head to one side, “But not like as if you’d wait for me anyway, mh?”

 

When he looked outside again, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the glass, dark circled eyes and a tired face staring back at him. He felt that pull to his heart, an ache that would never really go away, like an old wound that never really healed. He looked back down at his hands, they were shaking and Altair turned them back to a fist. It’s gotten worse over the years and Altair knew, it wouldn’t get better with any year passing by. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and pulled at his lips with one hand as he looked a no particular spot on the kitchen’s floor. It was like a fever that never really went away, his skin hurting to every human touch.

 

It took him a little longer, just a few moments more before he could force himself back into action, heading straight for his bedroom to pull open his wardrobe and getting ready to dress. It seemed like as if there was a long day ahead of him.


	2. Fix Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late Christmas present for you guys, I hope you'll all enjoy this long ass motherfucker of a chapter. ;)

Walker was already there when he arrived and currently speaking to somebody who looked as if they’ve stared death right into the face. Walker’s hair was ruffled, circles underneath his eyes and a cigarette dangled from between his lips. When he noticed Altair, he put his hand onto the man’s shoulder and spoke a few quiet words to him before setting his focus onto Altair.

 

“Victim’s male, around thirty years old. No injection marks to his feet but signs of suffocation. Crane says it probably happened just a few hours ago.”

 

Altair nodded, his glance turning towards of the body on the ground just a few feet away with Crane blocking his few to his face. He looked back up at Walker, “Are you even sober enough to work?”

 

Walker offered a tiny smirk, “Rooke decided to get wasted, I drove him home. Only had a beer.” He let go of his cigarette and squashed it underneath his shoe. Altair nodded, “Anything else we know?”

 

They were standing in the courtyard behind a pub, the smell of garbage, piss and vomit filling his nose and Altair took out a peppermint. “Is your headache any better?”

 

Altair brushed Walker off with a wave of his hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“The owner of the pub said he didn’t see anything. The fella here says he stepped out to take a piss and found him behind the dumpster.”

 

“Do you think the victim’s related to the case this morning?”

 

Walker shook his head. “Beside that they both were probably throttled to death and them being found naked, there’s no similarity yet.”

 

“Stephanie was found just a few blocks from here,” Altair muttered and craned his neck to see a little more. People in whites were walking around, trying to look for evidence. “Collar?”

 

“Simple iron collar,” Walker said. Not Linked.

 

“So another sub.”

 

“Sub,” Walker nodded and led Altair over to the corpse to turn the man’s hand around, exposing his wrist. “Look at the tattoo.” If he wasn’t wearing a collar, the tattoo would have given it away what he was born anyway. Those tattoos were no longer that common, in some states they didn't even offer them anymore. But his whole arm was covered in a sleeve, Altair guessed he simply liked the life style. 

 

Altair pursed his lips, crouching down next to Walker and looked across the body. There were marks all over it, old and new bruises. “He took some serious beating, didn’t he?”

 

Walker nodded, his brow wrinkled with a deep frown. “We already took some fingerprints, I’ve sent them over to Lucy. She’s checking right now if he was reported missing.” As if on cue, Walker’s cellphone rung, the intro of the X-Files filling the air around them. “Yeah Lucy”, he said and Altair could hear a small ‘Sir’ from the other end of the line.

 

“Oh that’s fantastic,” he said and made a gesture for Altair to hand him over a pencil and some paper. He turned around so Walker could press the sheet up against his back and write some notes down. “She said he wasn’t reported missing,” Walker said once he ended the call. “But we have his identity. He got caught a few years ago with some weed, served some community hours back then. His name’s Claude, early thirty’s.”

 

Altair pushed his hands into his pockets and looked back at the man. “So…”

 

“So I say we drive to his address and look around a bit,” Walker nodded and took Altair back to their car, driving this time. “No offense but you look live as if you’ve had a rough night,” he said once the engine was started and he’d pulled out into the streets, driving towards downtown.

 

Altair rubbed his head, all kind of voices talking altogether in his head. “I didn’t get much sleep that’s all.”

 

“Are you sure?” Walker glanced sideways at him as he took a left turn. “Nothing you’d like to tell me? It seems as if your headaches has only becomes worse, you know? I’m worried about my partner here.” Altair pressed his lips tightly together, looking out through the window and watching the night pass by. “Tell me,” Walker said and it made his toes curl inside his shoes and his muscles go rigid. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as every fiber in his body screamed for relieve. It was almost impossible to stay by Walker’s side and every morning when he got up for work it took all of his courage to really go there and not stay inside his apartment and hide from the world. Walker was a fine man after all, a good partner Altair really enjoyed working with – they’ve connected right from the beginning making the perfect team and somebody he trusted with his life. His hair was longer than Altair’s, almost reaching his shoulders with a nice wave to it. It was dark just as his eyes were and he looked so much different than Altair’s appearance. He was larger than him for once, broad shoulders and a beard hiding most of his face and he was almost never seen without his cigarettes, a habit Altair’s gotten used to it. He was a few years younger than him, late twenty’s but he was a good detective none the less. He had this authority buzzing around him only Dominants have and at times, it was hard to resist. Walker certainly wasn’t his Link and after living so many years with a lie, Altair could never tell the truth about his true identity. But this was a world where most people believed submissives belonged in less sophisticated jobs and it was only changing slowly –but it didn’t mean society was ready yet for that to happen.

 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Altair said and it sent a jolt of pain right down his spine spreading all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.

 

“You’ve always been a really bad liar you know that Altair?” Walker smirked at him. 

 

“Will you shut up about it already?” Altair groaned and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the car’s window.

 

“Not really, no,” Walker said casually as if he didn’t mind Altair’s distress at all, completely ignoring how tight his voice was – but that’s always been him, Altair didn’t know him any differently. It was alright.

 

“How much longer till the guy’s apartment?”

 

“In fact…” Walker muttered and turned onto a parking lot, “It’s right here. Fifth floor from what Lucy has told me. She said she’d call the landlord so he would let us in,” he added and as they got out of the car, Altair could already see a woman waiting for them, surprisingly well dressed for this late of hour. Those high heels looked as if they could kill, the pencil skirt wasn’t allowed to be any size smaller with how tight it fit around her hips and the blouse was missing a button maybe.

 

“Ms. Miller? I’m detective Bronsk, this is my partner Mr. Ibn’La-Ahad.”

 

She nodded, arms crossed in front of her chest and she looked down the tip of her nose at them. “It took you long enough,” she said with a sneer. “Are you finally here because of the missing rent? I’ve called you guys a couple of times about it but they’ve always told me there’s nothing they can do,” she huffed.

 

“No Ms. Miller, we’re not. We’re here because this morning at 3:43 we’ve got a call of Mr. Daniels been found dead down at 28th street.”

 

Her eyes went wide for a small second and Altair could see the look of surprise on her face before she quickly went back into the ice queen mode. “What, you’re telling me I won’t get my money after all?” There was the look of disgust on her face. “Who’s going to pay me the rent for the last six month then?”

 

“Ms. Miller,” Altair said because this was getting ridiculous, “Could you show us to Mr. Daniels apartment and let us in there.”

 

She looked at him as if she’d just noticed him now. “Yes, sure. I can let you in but the place is a dump,” she added and walked into the building followed by the click clack of her high heels meeting the floor. She led them up the stairs since there was a sign informing everybody stepping into the hall that the elevators was broken.

 

When they arrived at the apartment, Altair could see what she meant. Just the door looked as if it’d been kicked in a couple of times already and only fixed provisionally. Inside, it didn’t look any better. It was a small one bed room apartment with a tiny kitchen unit right behind the door, a bathroom that was missing the door and a bad as well as a TV on the floor. No chairs, no table, not even a wardrobe. There were clothing lying around the place everywhere and there was the still leftover scent of smoked weed hanging in the air mixed with cold cigarette smoke.

 

“Thank you Ms. Miller,” Walker said as he took out his latex gloves and pulled them on. “We’re going to need a bit to look around, you don’t have to wait here with us.”

 

“Oh I didn’t intend to,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose and she pushed one blond strand of hair back behind her ear that had come loose from the pony tail sitting high on top of her head. “Just do whatever you need to do,” she added with a motion of her hand.

 

“Have a good day,” Altair said, “and thank you for being here so fast.”

 

“Not like as if I could have said no the police,” she muttered and nodded at both men. “Don’t bother with locking the door, the lock’s broken anyway,” she told them before she left.

 

“Lovely lady, don’t you think?” Walker told Altair with a grin when he was certain she was out of earshot.

 

“Absolutely,” Altair agreed and made his way through a pile of used clothes and pushed some of them away with his foot. “Do you think we find anything in this mess?”

 

“Well I’d hope so,” Walker muttered before he walked into the bathroom, opening the cabinet above the sink to look through what was inside.

 

Altair took a look behind the bed. “At least he’s had a laptop,” he said with surprise, it didn’t look like a cheap one too. He picked it up and opened it, pressing the power button so it’d load. No password protection. Great. He turned it back off and placed it into one of the plastic bags they’d brought with them, writing down the date and what’s inside and where he found it. He’d look into it once they were back at the office. “Anything in there you could use?”

 

“He was on antidepressants, that’s all,” Walker said and came back with a similar plastic bag. “Some dried weed hidden behind the tub,” he added. “Looks like as if it’s been sitting there for a while.”

 

“It looks as if he hadn’t been home in a while, too,” Altair noted and run his gloved finger along some dust sitting on the windowsill. “Or he just wasn’t a very clean person.”

 

“You think?” Walker said with arched eyebrows and a low chuckle. “No shit Sherlock Holmes.”

 

“I was just thinking loud, okay?” Altair sent him a glare. “Look, there’s a backpack,” Walker pointed at the end of the bed. Altair pulled it up and opened it, it was empty. “Nothing”, he said.

 

Walker nodded, I don’t think we find anything more in here but we should check the pockets of his clothes and all,” he muttered, clearly not thrilled about the past.

 

“We should,” Altair agreed and they went to work.

 

xxx

 

It was around eight in the morning when Altair got to sit at his desktop and open the laptop once more. He logged into the email account which didn’t hold any password protection as well and read the last few messages. The last one was two weeks old and sent by somebody who was marked as Mr. S.

 

“Seems like our victim was looking for his Link,” he muttered more to himself than to anybody else but Walker heard him anyway and looked up from his computer. “He was?” He pondered and leaned down on his elbows, hands crossed in front of his mouth and he let his chin rest there. There were several plastic bags on his desk coming in all sizes, some of them filled with weed, other with prescribed medication, a few loose papers but so far, nothing really interesting.

 

“Yeah,” Altair nodded and leaned heavily back, rising his arms and stretching lazily. “He got registered to a lot of clubs as of lately.”

 

“In town?”

 

“Most of them, some out of state too and one in Canada,” Altair explained and scrolled through some more messages.

 

“You know, we’ve found more of his stash at his apartment, it could have been a dealer who got mad waiting for his money.”

 

“Could be,” Altair hummed absently. “But the weed you’ve found looked like as if it’s been sitting there for a few months, smelled like it, too.”

 

“He could have forgotten about it,” Walker insisted and rolled a bit around his desk on his chair, looking at Altair.

 

“Those are a lot of ‘what if’ Walker,” Altair smirked and rubbed his face then reached for the steaming coffee sitting on his desk next to the keyboard.

 

“Yes but at least I’m coming up with theories. That’s just one of the possibilities what could have happened here. If you want my honest opinion, we should wrap this case up and focus on the Basement Girl instead.”

 

“You don’t think they’re connected?”

 

Walker made a face as if he was saying ‘Are you serious?’. “No, I don’t think they’re connected.” He rubbed his face, he was just as tired as Altair was. Walker noticed the look on his face. “Alright, what’s your theory then?”

 

“I don’t think this was a dealer taking revenge on a few missed payments,” Altair said slowly and looked from between the screen of the laptop and up to Walker. “We haven’t really looked into Stephanie’s environment and her fiancée still needs to come in so we can ask him questions. I wouldn’t jump on any conclusions here but so far we have two dead subs, both found naked within just twenty four hours. You’ve said it yourself this morning, we usually don’t get to deal with such a high number of dead people within a year.”

 

“Stephanie’s was studying medicine while our other victim was a drug addict. I don’t see the connection here.”

 

Altair rose an eyebrow, “You’re really that shallow Walker? Seriously? I could be wrong, yes, but I wouldn’t want to drop this theory just because one of our victims was lucky enough to have rich parents and the other one wasn’t.”

 

“I tell you you’re wrong,” Walker said with a pointed finger at Altair but a grin on his lips. “But alright, I write it down as one of the possibilities,” he sighed.

 

There was a knock on the door and when Altair turned around it was opened, Lucy sticking her head inside before Walker made a gesture for her to come in. She was wearing one of her more pretty collars, silver and smooth, a small fine ring resting around her neck. “Mr. McKinsey is here sir”, she said and she looked at Walker first, then at Altair – it was never the other way around.

 

Walker nodded, “Stephanie’s Louren fiancée. We’ll come right away,” he told Lucy and she carefully closed the door behind them.

 

“Oh you think he’s a suspect,” Altair said once he saw the look in Walker’s eyes. He shrugged, “In over 90% of these cases it’s either the husband or boyfriend who kills them.”

 

“You’re forgetting he was her Link,” Altair said with emphasis.

 

“And sometimes they’re nuts”, Walker hummed and made a motion with his finger against his head. “Come on now we’ve been long enough in this field to know everything can be possible.”

 

“It just doesn’t make any sense for somebody to kill their Link. Isn’t that self-torture?”

 

“It is but remember in 1968 Lois Varmont killed his Link only to commit suicide later. A Link can’t save you from your own madness, Altair, don’t forget that.”

 

xxx

 

“She was a… really sweet person. She couldn’t say no to everybody and was known for wanting to help anybody. I think that’s why she decided to become a doctor, so she could make a difference and help the people who needed it.”

 

“Was there anything different in her behavior as of lately?” Walker asked, doing the talking like he usually did. “Did she meet somebody that could have gotten her into trouble?”

 

Johnathan, which was his name, frowned, his gaze turning into empty space as he thought hard when Altair was watching him. “She’s meeting new people all the time, that was just Stephanie,” he said with a lost smile on his lips. He looked up, meeting Walker’s gaze, “Everybody loved here.”

 

“Whoever did that to her, didn’t,” Walker said with a purse of his lips and it made tears rise to Johnathan’ eyes. “What I’m asking, Mr. McKinsey, did she have any enemies?”

 

Johnathan frowned, “No,” he said with surprise. “I’ve just told you, she was loved by everyone. She’s had a lot of friends, she’s- “ He stopped, unable to speak any further.

 

“She went missing a week ago,” Altair stepped in. “Can you tell me what you two have been doing the last time you’ve seen her? What did you talk about?”

 

Johnathan rubbed his face, his hand was trembling and Walker poured him a glass of water. “It was Sunday,” he started. “She usually stays at the dorms when she’s studying for finals but, but I’ve told her she needs a break and that I want to see her so she came over.”

 

“It’s a long drive for her, isn’t it? She doesn’t own a car.”

 

Johnathan nodded, “She took the train.”

 

“So when she arrived,” this time Walker was speaking again, “what did you two do?”

 

“I’ve disciplined her,” Johnathan spoke slowly and his voice was dropping to a whisper. When he saw the look on Walker’s and Altair’s face, he added “Because she stood up past her bedtime the night before and told me.”

 

“Was this unusual?”

 

Johnathan shook his head, “No. She was a good sub but sometimes she needed correction.”

 

“Did she tell you anything that was out of the ordinary?”

 

“No.” Johnathan was close to tears again. “She told me about work, her finals and-“

 

“Work?” Walker sat up on his chair.

 

“She’s working at a free clinic on Friday nights. It pays her some money and she can learn more some.”

 

“Did anything happen there?” Walker pressed further.

 

“No,” Johnathan said and it was frustrating Altair because so far, they had nothing.

 

“She told me about a few homeless people who needed some stitches to some cuts, one with a bad cough he got medication for. But she told me there was some tumult in the waiting area but she didn’t really get to see much-“

 

“Tumult? What tumult?”

 

“Some guy… looked like as if he was on PCP or something from what she saw.”

 

“Dom or sub?” Altair asked.

 

Johnathan frowned. “I don’t know.”

 

“Johnathan, I need you to tell me the free clinic she’s working at,” Altair said and pushed a piece of paper and a pen over to Johnathan. “Write the address down for me, please.”

 

Johnathan nodded, hand still shaking as he wrote. “Did- did I help with anything?

 

Altair glanced at Walker who looked back at him.

 

“I don’t know yet.”

 

xxx

 

It was noon when they arrived and Altair slowly got out of the car looking up the clinic’s entrance. He reached into his pocket, phone half way out and lazily scrolled through the messages. There was only one from Lucy, informing him she'd taken care of getting Daniels laptop to the lab so they could look through deleted files and mails. He pushed his phone back into his pocket after sending a simple 'k'.  “You know this is sort of a big step you’re taking here,” Walker told as he walked up to his side.

 

Altair frowned, “I’m not. It’s a lead we have.”

 

“The prescriptions he got are a few weeks old.”

 

“But they were from free clinics.”

 

“But not this one,” Walker sighed as they took the stairs up to the entrance.

 

“It doesn’t mean he wasn’t here,” Altair insisted and as they entered they were standing right in the waiting area. It wasn’t as crowded as he’d have expected it to be but then again, it was Monday noon, these places were usually packed during the weekends and at late hours.

“You know, it could all be just coincidence.” It made Altair rise one single eyebrow at Walker. “Really,” he said, “coincidence? Did you win your fucking degree at the lottery? If you believe in coincidence maybe you should switch departments and-“

 

“Don’t be butthurt now,” Walker interrupted him. “I’m just say it’s a weak lead we’re following here.”

 

“But at least it is one,” Altair said before he turned towards a nurse sitting behind a counter, a pair of glasses riding low her nose and long red fingernails which were hammering into a keyboard in front of her.

 

“Excuse me”, he said and she looked up at him, her eyes almost vanishing behind the thick dark frame of her glasses, “I’m Altair Ibn’La-Ahad, this is my partner.” He showed her his patch and her finger slowly fell from the keyboard as she pushed her back from the desk, the rolls of her chair screeching along the sterile vinyl floor.  “Yes?” She said carefully, slowly.

 

“We’re interested into one of your patients – if he was one of yours. Do you think you can help us with that?”

 

She nodded, “That depends but yes, I think I can.”

 

“We need to know if this man,” and at this, Altair pushed a photograph of their victim over the counter and into her direction, “was here at the 13th, late hours.”

 

“Dr. Simonetti worked that day,” she quickly said and set her focus back onto her computer, quickly typing something before something flashed up on the screen and she leaned a little closer to read. She nodded, “Yes he was having the graveyard shift that weekend. He’s working right now, I can get him for you if you wish to speak with him.”

 

“Please,” Walker said and she excused herself, making her way in the back through a door made of frosted glass where they could only see her shadow behind.

 

“Do you think she has a nice ass?”

 

Altair sent Walker a glare and he leaned against the counter back first, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“I think she has a nice ass.”

 

“Good for you,” Altair muttered and busied himself inspecting his fingernails.

 

“You think she’d come with me if I tell her to?”

 

“She’s Linked Walker.”

 

“What?” Altair glanced at him, he looked physically hurt. “I didn’t see any- what? No.”

 

“Is. If you would have looked anywhere above her chest you would have noticed so yourself.”

 

“Wow you’re- Altair, I did not.”

 

“So did,” Altair said with a small smirk. “We’re on duty anyway, Walker so fuck it.”

 

Walker was about to say a reply when the door opened again and the nurse came back followed by a man wearing blue scrubs and some latex gloves he just pulled of his hands. “Yes?” He asked. “I’ve heard you have some questions?”

 

Walker nodded, “Yes – could we have a moment in private with you?”

 

“Sure,” the man nodded and only now held out his hand to introduce himself. “Leonardo Simonetti.”

 

Altair could tell right away he was a quiet man, gentle in his appearance, down to earth. He wore one of those smile which made you trust that person right away, perfectly fitting for a doctor. He could also tell this man was one of those doctors who haven’t stopped caring yet, who actually tried to take his time to be there for their patients and slowly died in the system. Altair was certain, in a few years this man wouldn’t be the same anymore. After all, there’d come a time when the system beat you.

 

“Walker Bronsk, this is my partner Mr. Ibn’La-Ahad”, he nodded at Altair who shook Leonardo’s hand in return. He showed his ID as Walker did as well.

 

Leonardo got a quick glance at them before he looked back at both men, “Come with me,” he said with a crook of his finger and made to follow them through the door before they took a left turn into a small office. It was barely big enough to fit a desk and a chair in front of it so Walker had to pull another one up from the waiting area so they could all sit.

 

“How can I help you then?” Leonardo asked as he let his elbows sink onto the desk and rest his chin on the back of his hands. Altair felt that authority buzzing around him and if he concentrated hard enough the world around him moved from all its colors, the walls, chairs and desk turning into a soft gray while Leonardo and Walker held a deep blue color, a soft glow that almost reached his fingers, warm and intoxicating. He wanted to touch it, touch _them_ , let his fingers cover by that blue and let his mind be drawn into a more peaceful place, finding serenity from the madness slaughtering his thoughts inside his head. He blinked rapidly, the world around him turning back to normal while the screams inside his head continued.

 

“We were wondering if you’ve seen this man before,” Walker muttered as Altair placed the photograph onto the desk and Leonardo picked it up, looking at it. It was the one they took from the morgue.

 

“He- yes, he was here last weekend,” he said with arched eyebrows and looked back at both officers. “He tried to attack one of my nurses.”

 

“Stephanie Louren?” Walker pondered and leaned a bit forwards on his chair, looking sideways at Altair before back at Leonardo.

 

“Stephanie was drawing blood and she’s not a nurse, she’s working here weekends for free. Why did you ask if it was Stephanie?” His voice had dropped a little, as if he was suspecting something and he was right about that.

 

“We’re sorry to inform you that Stephanie Louren was found dead yesterday,” Walker said and Altair had heard him saying this phrase so many, many times. We’re sorry to tell you but your daughter’s dead. We’re sorry but we’ve found your brother’s body today. We’re sorry to inform you your wife has passed. It was always the same and it would never stop to send a quick stab of pain right into Altair’s heart when he met the eyes of those they were telling the bad news to. The same look Leonardo wore in his eyes right now.

 

“Steph… is dead?”

 

“Wasn’t she supposed to work here this weekend?” Walker asked and Altair watched Leonardo shaking his head.

 

“She was off duty, she had finals coming up – did he do it?” He asked quickly, glancing back at the photo and then at Altair and Walker.

 

“We can’t answer that at this point,” Walker muttered. “Was he a regular?”

 

“He came every once in a while,” Leonardo said and by the color leaving his face Altair could say shock was setting in. He picked at the skin of his thumb with one finger, ripping off small pieces of dead skin that slowly collect like tiny snowflakes underneath his hand.

 

“Did Stephanie know him?” Altair asked and it took all he got to press the question out and off his system, going against everything nature has given him and contrary to his instincts. He fumbled for the pack of peppermint in his pocket.

 

“Could be”, Leonardo said and run his hand through his hair and his eyes were lost, he didn’t know where to look and his gaze was flickering from between Altair and Walker and his empty hands.

 

“Mr. Daniels came in here to get his antidepressants, didn’t he?” Walker pondered and pursed his lips.

 

Leonardo nodded, “Yes among other things. He was a member of our program-“

 

“What program?”

 

Leonardo sighed and shifted his weight, the chair squeaking underneath the motion. “He was an addict, we got him on methadone half a year ago.”

 

“Didn’t he come in on a regular base to get it then?” Walker pressed as he pulled out his notebook to write the information down.

 

“Mr. Daniels went to various free clinics not just us,” Leonardo sighed.

 

“Maybe that explains all the dried up weed,” Altair muttered at Walker low enough for Leonardo not to understand. “If he wanted to quit it makes sense.”

 

“You've said there was some sort of tumult the last time Mr. Daniels checked in, can you elaborate?”

 

“Yes, yes,” Leonardo nodded and his gaze looked a bit more focused now as he recalled the memories. His fingers picked at the hem of his sleeve and Altair cocked his head, the beginning of a tattoo crawling up his skin catching his interest.  “He usually was very friendly when he came in, even after he decided to go cold turkey and came in with the worst symptoms, he seemed grateful for the help.”

 

“So what was different last time?” Altair asked and he watched from the corner of his eye how Walker wrote everything down quickly.

 

“He was different, looked as if he was on drugs again – I’ve thought he might have an overdose. He talked nonsense, was feverish and all in all in no good condition.”

 

“Was he aggressive?”

 

Leonardo nodded and pulled his hands into his lap, the tip of his fingernail a bit bloody from how much he’d picked at his own skin. It seemed out of place.

 

“Mr. Daniels wasn’t Linked was he?”

 

“As far as I know he wasn’t,” Leonardo shook his head and he sat up a bit, pulled his shoulders back, just a little and Altair could tell he was slowly getting back to be himself. Even with that kind look in his eyes, Altair was certain he wouldn’t give up control easily, desperate to take the reins back into his own hands. Personally, he’d always admired people like Leonardo – if Leonardo was Linked, he probably wouldn’t have to speak a word for his sub to know what he wanted. No, he was one of those man who could fill a whole room with just their personality, dominating by just a look. His toes curled in his shoes and he took a deep breath, trying to pop that little can of peppermint open.

 

“When a person’s Link breaks it sometimes looks as if they’re psychotic in the first stage,” Walker hummed.

 

“He wasn’t Linked,” Leonardo said again and Altair nodded to that – Daniels was wearing an iron collar, silver and small, nothing fancy. He wasn’t taken.

 

“Alright,” Walker sighed. “Thank you for your help so far.” He made an attempt to get up but Altair gently put his hand on his arm to hold him back.

 

“Can you remember what he’d said that night?”

 

“He sounded paranoid”, Leonardo explained. “He said they found him and that he has no idea how but they’ve found him and he needed everything he could get.”

 

“What get?”

 

“I don’t know,” Leonardo said and pressed the back of his hand against one eye, his voice cracking a bit. “He stormed into one of our examination rooms, my guess is he was on heroine again and searched for some drugs.”

 

“Did he get some?”

 

Again, he shook his head. “No. He broke into our office where we keep some files before our security guards could get a hand of him and kick him out.”

 

Altair frowned and looked at Walker, “That would be an unusual place to look for drugs.”

 

“It is,” Leonardo agreed. “I mean there’s nothing in there, just some records and files-“

 

“About what?”

 

“Employees mostly.”

 

Altair and Walker looked both up at the same time. “Was there something missing?”

 

“From what I’ve been told, no.”

 

“Could you check for us again?” Altair asked and pulled out his wallet to leave his business card. “And once you did, you give me a call please.”

 

Leonardo took the card and held it in between his fingers, reading all the information which was on there before turning it around, nodding once more. As he looked up, he set his eyes on Altair, all intense and he thought he might burn by the look alone, “Yes I will.”

 

“Alright,” Walker said and Altair let him get up this time, following him suit. “I thank you for your time Mr. Simonetti.” He held out his hand and Leonardo took it and shook Altair’s last.

 

“I don’t think I’ve helped you with anything.”

 

“We don’t know that yet,” Walker said, “but you might have.”

 

 

“We have a victim who clearly got injection marks and who was probably kept quiet with heroine,” Altair said as they walked down the stairs of the clinic, “and an addict who tried to get clean and who used to take heroine.”

 

“That’s a really thin thread,” Walker hummed as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it on fire before they stopped right next to their car. He leaned against it, watching Altair from head to toe and it was the wrong moment, Altair knew it was but it sent chills down his spine, the way those eyes rolled down and up across his body – it made his knees go weak and it took him a moment or two to pull himself back together. He took out a peppermint and chewed slowly on it. The smell and taste kept him distracted.

 

“It’s a connection, you’ve wanted a connection.”

 

“So what is your guess?” Walker asked and some of the smoke blew right into Altair’s face but he didn’t make an attempt to show how much it bothered him.

 

_Just take it._

 

“I want to wait with that until we know if Stephanie’s file is missing or not.”

 

“From what it sounded like she was doing voluntary work there, she probably didn’t even have one.”

 

“She has one, believe me. She’s working in a medical field, she has a file there.”

 

“You think it’s missing,” Walker hummed and flipped some of the ashes off.

 

“Yes.”

 

“He said it’s not.”

 

“Working in a clinic is always busy maybe they haven’t properly checked it yet.”

 

Walker shook his head, a grin on his lips. “You’re hopeless Altair.”

 

“You just hate losing a bet.”

 

“Hey, we’ve never made a bet.”

 

“We didn’t?” Altair sounded honestly surprised. “Or did that pair of tits distract you so much you forgot about everything we’ve talked about?”

 

Walker pulled his hand up his chest, the leftovers of his cigarette smoking from between his fingers. “I’m hurt now.”

 

“Then you’re totally guilty,” Altair hummed and pat him on the back before Walker flipped his cigarette out into the street, ready to leave back for the office.

 

xxx

 

 

 

It was one of those days Altair wasn’t really proud of. His headache has only gotten worse after he’d left in the early evening and simply wanted to spend the rest of the day at quiet and in peace. Spectre was currently sitting on his lap, purring loudly and eyes closed to slits, tail swishing from one side to the other. He thought the reason why he fell in love with that big lazy ball of fur a few years ago were probably Spectre’s amber eyes. They were a mixture of a dark brown and light orange and he could stare for hours into them. Looking at the cat, vanishing in the deep of his eyes almost gave him the feeling as if he’d found serenity.

 

Quiet or peace though wasn’t there for Altair this evening when the bell to his apartment gave a rater annoying little ring, then another one and two more followed shortly. Spectre was distracted by the noise and jumped down his lap, walking curiously towards the door with Altair following shortly. Once he opened it, he groaned as he looked down the stairs leading up to his apartment. “Oh no it’s you,” he said and rubbed his face tiredly.

 

“You always say that when you see me and I have no idea why,” his cousin replied as he took two steps at a time, walking up quickly to push his way inside Altair’s place.

 

“Because you’re very annoying,” Altair grunted and closed the door behind Desmond.

 

“Am not,” he muttered as he picked up Spectre, rubbing the cat’s head so his ears flopped back and up again, then used one finger to scratch him underneath the chin. “At least _he’s_ always happy to see me.”

 

“Because you feed him food off your plate.”

 

“You know with that attitude,” Desmond said as he let Spectre back down, the cat rubbing his head against his legs and walking in between them, “your Link is going to have a really hard time with you.”

Altair sighed, locked the door once and followed Desmond to the small living room area. It wasn’t a big place he had, but it was big enough for him with a single bedroom and a bath which even held a tub, a kitchen unit at the back and enough shelves to contain all of his books. “We’ve had this conversation a couple of times already. I don’t have a Link.”

 

“Everybody has a Link,” Desmond brushed him off as if Altair was talking nonsense, like a kid who just needed some correction. “It’s physically impossible to not have one.”

 

“You feel yours?”

 

“All the time,” Desmond hummed as he leaned widely back into the sea of cushions decorating Altair’s couch and resting his arms to each side on the back.

 

“I don’t feel mine, not at all.”

 

“You’d probably feel yours once you stop pretending to be a Dom,” Desmond said and turned his head to look at Altair and at times, it was scary how much they looked alike if it weren’t for the fact that his cousin was just a few years younger than him. “Nobody at the office has noticed yet?”

 

Altair shook his head and reached for the small water bottle sitting on top of the couch table. He pulled up his lips and shrugged, “I don’t think anybody has a clue.”

 

“You can only hope you never meet a Sentinal then.”

 

“Sentinals are a fairy tale Desmond,” Altair pondered and looked sternly at him. “I’ve thought you’re grown up now. You don’t believe in Santa Clause either, do you?”

 

“Sentinals _are_ real,” his cousin pressed on and to make his point, Desmond rose one finger and pointed it at Altair. “There are not many of them, but they’re real.”

 

“And how come nobody has ever meet one?”

 

“Mmh…” Desmond thought for a while. “The world’s pretty much at peace now, I think they’re just not needed anymore?”

 

Altair gave a short laugh and snorted, “Yes, that’s probably the reason. Just like with angels, eh?”

 

“Angels aren’t real Altair,” Desmond said and he said it in such a tone as if he was scolding a child who’s just been caught stealing a cookie and then trying to hide it with the crumbles still on their lips. Altair sighed, it was absolutely hopeless with Desmond and he shook his head. Sentinals were said to be inherits from Angels, which Altair thought was a lot of bullshit. But history said when god created the world, he created two beings, angels and humans. He favorited humans more which was the reason why he gifted them with mortality and love, while Angels were immortal and doomed to walk among earth for eternity. Altair wasn’t a religious man, never has been and while Sentinals weren’t said to be immortal, there was the rumor of them being able to see the world as a whole, able to recognize when a sub or a Dom was standing in front of them while they themselves are meant to seek a live on their own, not Linked with anybody but put on earth to work as observers. Those were rumors and nothing but whispers in the dark and still, people believed those shadows creeping the world but not Altair. “Why are you here anyway?” He asked Desmond.

 

“To keep you company?” His cousin said although it sounded more like a question.

 

“Did you get kicked out again?” He watched Desmond pursing his lips, his gaze turning onto an invisible spot on Altair’s table before it rose again, meeting Altair’s eyes.

 

“I didn’t do anything this time,” Desmond said and Altair knew he didn’t, because he never did it just was that Desmond was too much of a Dominant to get along with his father, two forces colliding ever so often and sometimes, an explosion followed.

 

“You can spend the night here,” he offered.

 

“Do you have to work tonight?”

 

“No,” Altair explained and emptied the last of his water, “unless I get a call like last night, then you have to lead yourself out in the morning.”

 

“Busy right now?”

 

“Isn’t it always?” Altair arched his eyebrow at Desmond, “But yes, it is.”

 

“Bad?” His cousin pondered.

 

“You could call it like that, yes. What, did you hear anything?”

 

“I hear a lot as a bartender but not everything,” Desmond shook his head and let Spectre hop onto his lap, paws kneading his upper thigh.

 

Altair nodded and rubbed his temple, the splitting headache there only getting worse and he reached into his pocket to pop open that little box of peppermints to put one in his mouth, tongue curling around it as the scent crawled up his nose.

 

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Desmond noticed as he saw the pained look on Altair’s face. He nodded simply. “I have no idea why you’re torturing yourself like that.”

 

“Tell me I have another choice and I stop,” Altair reckoned.

 

“You always have a choice. If you’d just _stop_ and get that damn collar out of your closet-“

 

“How many officers are out there collared?” Altair cut him off, neck craned and arms crossed in front of his chest.

 

He watched Desmond thinking, a frown on his face. “So far I didn’t meet anyone but-“

 

“Because there aren’t one,” Altair said. “I don’t have a choice.”

 

“World’s changing Altair – it needs people like you to proof differently.”

 

“I don’t need to proof anything.”

 

Desmond laughed, short and dry.  “Of course you do! Every day. How much of hell is it to be surrounded by them every day?”

Altair pressed his lips to a thin fine line.

 

“I see,” Desmond said and sent Altair a smirk. “Better not talk about it, eh? Alright,” he nodded. “Good.” He looked around, his eyes falling on Altair’s kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”

 

xxx

 

A box of pizza and some left overs later, Altair licked the grease from his lips and was about to call it a night. Desmond has gotten incredible quiet over dinner, surprisingly and Altair looked at him for a moment before he sighed, “Alright what is it?”

 

“Not much,” Desmond said who pulled Altair’s box over, flipping back the lid and picking up one of the pieces Altair hadn’t really touched.

 

“No need to hide,” Altair smirked, “so spill it.”

 

“I’m alright,” Desmond said around a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni, “but I think my Link’s not.”

 

“Oh?” Altair’s eyebrows rose. “No?”

 

“Bit of distress,” Desmond simply said and swallowed.

 

“How does it feel anyway?” Altair asked. “Since I can’t feel mine.” Desmond looked at him.

 

“It’s a feeling somewhere in your stomach,” he tried to explain. “Like you know, something is going on but you can’t really put your finger on it.”

 

“Like when you have a bad feeling about something?”

 

“Yes but for no reason,” Desmond said. “And when they’re happy, I feel happy. Like butterflies you know?”

 

Altair made a face, “That sounds so romantic,” he huffed.

 

“You know, a lot of people think it is,” Desmond said with a smirk.

 

“And some people think of it as a bother.”

 

“Like you do,” Desmond hummed and pointed his piece of pizza at his cousin. “But for me it’s not. I like knowing if she’s having a good day and when she’s not, well… there’s not much I can do about it but know once I meet her I can make her feel better.”

 

“How do you know it’s a she?”

 

Desmond smirked. “Every month at the same time she’s feeling _really_ distressed.”

 

“But how- oh. Oh.” Altair rose his brows as understanding set in. “I see,” he chuckled before the smile slowly faded from his lips. “Have you ever thought you might not meet her, ever?”

 

“She’ll find me,” Desmond said. “We’re Linked, you know? It’s impossible not to find your Match.” He tipped with one finger against his temple. “Forgot what you have in here?”

 

“I rather would,” Altair sighed.

 

“You make it sound like as it’s a bad thing being born submissive.”

 

“It makes things more complicated,” Altair said sourly.

 

“ _You_ make things more complicated.” Desmond sighed, “I swear I’ve never met a submissive as stubborn as you before.”

 

“Good thing you’re not my Match then,” Altair teased him.

 

“I really don’t want to trade with the poor soul that gets stuck with you,” Desmond said and stuck his tongue out at Altair before he bit off a rather large piece of pizza and chewed it loudly. “You should get a Fix, you know? Go somewhere and let somebody take of your urges.”

 

“Desmond,” Altair said sternly and sent him a glare. “I’m not discussing something like this with you.”

 

“But it’s true,” Desmond said not bothered in the slightest by the intimidating look Altair had on him. “There are places for you to go. Let somebody have you for a night, get some balm for your soul and live a little more at ease and with a little less of a stick shoved up your ass.”

 

“You’re so bad,” Altair muttered and let Spectre lick at the tips of his fingers, watching him doing so.

 

“I’m just saying how it is. You need a _Fix._ ”

 

“I don’t need anything,” Altair said back sourly.

 

“Stubborn,” Desmond sighed, “stubborn as hell. You know what could happen if you don’t Altair and I really like you too much as a cousin as to see that coming.”

 

He had a point and even Altair had to admit that.

 

“You could end up with somebody dangerous,” Desmond added and yes, yes that was true. Altair could feel those invisible fingers pull against the back of his head every day and it got worse not to submit to them. It wasn’t easy to go through the days like this, it wasn’t easy at work where he’d caught himself more than once getting lost in the thought of just sinking down to his knees to various Dominants he knew. Altair was certain it made him vulnerable and while Rooke probably wasn’t a bad choice to submit to, there were people who could take advantage of the situation - and that happened rather often. He knew exactly what Desmond meant. “I’m simply worried about you,” his cousin said and his voice cut through the silence. “That’s all.”

 

Altair looked up. “Would it help if I tell you I’d think about it?”

 

“If I knew that’s true than yes but I know you won’t,” he said with a small smile, a sad one but a smile nevertheless. “I have friends you do it, you know? Dominants and submissives – it’s a great opportunity to let somebody take care of something that’s planted in your instincts before you finally meet your Link.”

 

“I don’t wear my collar,” Altair said.

 

“Yes and you better hope nobody finds out about that because you know what happens then. You're breaking the law which is some kind funny, you know, since you are a cop and all.”

 

Yeah, he knew. He’d probably lose his job, all his degrees and would be left with nothing in his hands. He knew the way he was living was a risk but if he’d have told the truth right from the beginning, he wouldn’t have gotten a chance to get where he was now anyway. It was a tough world but the one he was living in and while he could see changes happening, he still didn’t believe in them – at least not for himself.

 

“Oh dear god Altair,” Desmond groaned. “Stop making the face of a kicked little puppy. Go out! Have some fun! It’s not as cruel out there as you always like to make yourself believe,” he grinned. “God, you’re such a drama queen,” he chuckled.

 

“I’m glad my misery is such an entertainment to you Desmond,” Altair muttered and gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before he got up reached over and got Spectre onto his own lap – the cat got up immediately again and walked back over to Desmond. What a traitor…

 

“You know what,” Desmond said and rubbed his hands against his pants as he put the pizza down before he glimpsed at the watch around his wrist, “we go out.”

 

Altair looked at him, blinked. “No.”

 

“Yes,” Desmond said again and nodded widely, then stretched his legs and got up. “It’s not that late, we go out, you get to have some fun while I watch out for you and then you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

 

“We’re right in the middle of something big Desmond, I can’t afford a night out right now.”

 

“You have to,” Desmond insisted and already reached for Altair’s wrist to pull him up. He’s been like this ever since they were kids – usually, Desmond’s plans didn’t really work out and got them into an even bigger mess than they were in the beginning. But, and that was the more important point, in the end it’d always worked out for them. Altair never knew how or why, but it always did.

 

“I have to get up at five tomorrow.”

 

“You get up at five thirty and I buy you a beer,” Desmond said and if he wouldn’t be his cousin that statement alone would have probably turned his knees into soft wax.

 

“Two hours, not longer.”

 

“Two hours is probably even more than you need,” Desmond grinned.

 

 

xxx

 

This was one of the places Altair usually tried his hardest to avoid, happy people standing in line all dressed up, drinks in their hands to make the waiting time shorter, smiling and simply having a good time – god, he hated this. There were bouncer standing by the door looking down their noses at those who wanted to get inside, occasionally opening the line to let a few people in before closing it again. Some people got searched, some got looked at and a few had their collars checked. He was too old for this. The collar didn’t feel good around his neck either despite what Desmond had tried to tell him. ‘Don’t worry Altair it’ll be good’ and a lot of ‘Trust me!’ – but so far it felt like a heavy weight that kept pulling at him no matter what, making Altair believe at some point it’d crush him for good. It burnt and made his skin tingle in the most unpleasant ways. He just hasn’t worn his collar in such a long time that he’d forgotten what it was supposed to feel like – right now he could tell it was rejecting him as much as he was rejecting it. He probably just got what he deserved, no?

 

“Tell me again why this is a good idea?”

 

“This is _nothing_ illegal Altair, stop acting like it,” Desmond huffed as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other and pushed one hand down his pocket.

 

“I just have a bad feeling,” he muttered. He wasn’t the most social person – he enjoyed the quiet times, the small get togethers with close friends. Not a big club with a crowd of dancing people, sticky air and alcohol on their breaths. “I’ve told you I look out for you,” Desmond said in a low voice so not everybody around them could hear what they were talking about. “But if you don’t do this I’m sure you’re going to collapse in a few days and when they rush you to a hospital-“

 

“They’ll know, yes – thank you for reminding me.”

 

“Because nobody else can,” Desmond said in defeat. “You’re old enough to look out for your own, Altair but you’re too much of a fucking butthead to do that.”

 

Altair pursed his lips, “Got a point,” he said casually. “But remind me to kick your ass for that when we get back home.”

 

“I can do that but I doubt you will.”

 

Altair sent him a glance from the corner of his eye. “How come?”

 

“I’m just hoping,” Desmond said with a shrug, “that we find you a Fix tonight and by the end of it you’ll be as high as a kite and forget about it.”

 

Altair snorted, “Alright. We’ll see about that.” They got to the front of the line and Altair could already hear loud music booming from inside, a weird mix of some industrial music with electronics and a group of chattering people was already standing by the doors, glasses in their hands and basically having a good time. One of the bouncer was looking at him, the other one checked Desmond and his cousin showed his ID simply because he had the face of a baby compared to Altair. But when the bouncer didn’t made an attempt to step away, Altair rose an eyebrow at him. “Really?” He asked and a nod was all he got. Altair reached for his wallet with a long sigh and showed his ID as well, not believing his luck – he didn’t take it as a compliment either, when you’ve crossed the age of thirty it just becomes ridiculous. The bouncer’s eyes switched from between Altair’s ID and his face, then his gaze went lower to his collar before he gave it back to him. Once inside it didn’t get any better. Desmond found them a nice booth at the back of the club from where they had easy access to the bar as well as a good view on the dancefloor and the other tables around. He watched after Desmond when he left Altair by himself, picking at the drink menu nervously before he put it back down onto the table, then picked it up again turned it in his hands, then left it alone once more. “I’ve promised you a beer, didn’t I?” Desmond grinned as he returned and pushed back into the booth opposite of Altair and placed a bottle in front of him, cool and with the label already coming off a bit due to the condensed water.

 

“It’s good, surprisingly,” Altair said after the first sip.

 

“You should trust me some more,” Desmond said with a hurt expression which melted quickly as he took a look around. “Did you see anybody you’d like yet?”

 

Altair rose an eyebrow at him without taking the time to scan the place. “No,” he said as he met Desmond’s gaze.

 

“You didn’t even look”, his cousin muttered and looked a bit sourly, maybe a bit frustrated as well but hey, Altair didn’t tell him to do this for him and it was Desmond’s own fault trying to find Altair a good Fix and getting frustrated for not being successful with it.

 

“I don’t want to look.”

 

Desmond groaned and he made a gesture as if he was about to bite into his fist. “God,” he hissed, “Altair you’re – with no doubt you need some really, really good training and probably more than just some correction”, he sighed. “Okay, you didn’t really give me another chance.”

 

Completely unimpressed by Desmond’s little outburst, Altair looked up. “Mh?”

 

“There was a really nice guy sitting by the bar, I go get him.”

 

“Desmond, no-“

 

“Or a girl?” His cousin looked at him with that strange smirk on his lips. “There was a nice one, too. I know you like dick but you can't say no to a nice pair of big boobs.”

 

“A guy is fine but-“

 

“Alrighty,” he grinned and Altair tried to reach for his arm to pull him back to his seat but was only able to grab some empty air. His cousin was gone between a group of dancing bodies before he got the chance to call after him. Well, shit. Between shady lights and partying people, Altair saw how he tipped somebody on his back, leaning next to him at the bar and pointing over to Altair. Before the man could turn around though Altair’s view got blocked and he let his eyes roam over a wide chest and broad shoulders until he met the face. Altair thought he looked odd, completely lost and totally out of place – he wore this fine three piece suit complete with tie and waistcoat and a fine golden bracelet around his wrist which Altair could see now that he put his drink down in front of him before taking the seat opposite.

 

“Can I help you?” Altair asked. He watched how the man smiled, it didn’t look honest but it captured him right away and while chills crawled up his spine Altair felt himself unable to move.

 

His smile only grew, showing off perfect white teeth. “I’ve thought maybe you want some company.”   

 

Altair watched him. He wasn’t used to Fix ups. The last time was probably a year or even two ago and Altair had done probably everything to keep it that way, to make it through life without needing one but Desmond was right, he was in bad condition and he’d run out of options. He smiled at him still waiting for an answer and the way how his finger tapped against the rim of his glass told him he got impatient.

 

“I’m waiting for my cousin,” Altair said. “He’s just getting us new drinks,” and he craned his neck trying to see over the heads of a moving crowd but was unable to find Desmond.

 

“He mustn’t be good of an observer, your beer isn’t even touched yet”, he chuckled and held out his hand for Altair to take. “My name’s Richard.”

 

“Altair”, he said and the light touch sent tingles right underneath his skin crawling up his muscles and bones, making him feel hot and cold at the same time. It felt like touching the devil in person and Altair tried to get away from his vortex sucking him deeper and deeper into oblivion. Altair realized he’s been wrong, it wasn’t Desmond who was hopeless – it was him who was. He could never tell his cousin though, Desmond would never let go of it.

 

“That’s a name you don’t hear very often,” Richard said and studied Altair’s face, his focus settling on his eyes for a moment. “Of Arabic descent?”

 

“Syrian,” Altair said and he sat up just a little straighter and his mind felt fogged and his thoughts were running heavy and sluggish inside his head.

 

His smile widened, “Now that’s something I haven’t had before.”

 

Something?

 

“I can tell why you’re here.”

 

Altair was trembling, his heart pounding inside his chest. Whoever this was, he got a bad feeling from him and yet, yet he was already succumbing to him and his aura, the soft scent of cologne clinging to his skin, the three day old beard framing his chin and cheeks and Altair wondered what he could do for him, how he could make him satisfied. “Why?” He asked but didn’t remember forming the question inside his head.

 

“You’re looking for me of course,” he said and cocked his head to one side, an amused little smirk on his lips which made his mouth look lopsided. “Why don’t you empty your beer and we see if we can find a more… comfortable place to continue our talk?”

 

He was fast, getting straight to the point – it didn’t surprise Altair, he was a Dominant and from what he’s seen so far, he was good at what he was doing. It was intimidating even. “I’m looking for a Fix,” Altair said and admitting that felt wrong, burnt his tongue and cut his lips around the words. “Not sex.”

 

He chuckled, “I feel flattered but a _Fix_ is exactly what I can offer.” He looked at him and narrowed his eyes, “Empty your beer.”

 

There was this tingle at the back of his head, fingers pulling at him and his mind, crushing his soul underneath their weight. This was wrong, this was something his Link should be doing for him, not some stranger in a shady club Desmond insisted was a good place to find what Altair needed.

 

“Oh… you’re one of those,” he said after watching how Altair’s lips were pressed to a thin line. “I know there are a lot of subs who feel getting a Fix is like… being unfaithful to their Link – but it’s not. It’s a natural process you can’t do much about it,” he explained as he leaned back his drink casual in one hand and watching Altair with firm eyes. He got it all wrong but he was so full of himself he didn’t even consider it to be anything else but that exact reason. Altair knew in that moment this was the type of Dom he usually tried to avoid, those arrogant bastards who mistook a sub as their property – yet, his nerves were singing, screaming at him to just give in. Just this one single time. Only once and tomorrow he’d wake up and everything would feel good again.

 

Altair wrapped his fingers around his bottle and rose it to his lips, taking a sip and then another one, a larger one. “Good boy,” he said smiling still when Altair was watching a droplet of condensed water running down the bottle’s neck, trying to keep his mind busy, trying to set his mind on anything else except his voice. “How about I take you home with me – I could give you a lesson or two and tomorrow morning I drive you back home and we both get with our lives on, on separated ways.” He made a small gesture, looking Altair up and down once more.

 

Altair’s weight was pushing against the booth, his feet moving across the floor while he felt the bass of the music playing vibrating through his skull. He took a rather large sip from his beer to empty it in one go, then set the bottle back down to lick his lips, his eyes meeting Alain’s. “I make it better for you,” Alain said and it came close to a purr as his fingers moved like the legs of a spider up his arm to his shoulder until they could reach his collar, pulling him forwards until he was so close they were almost breathing the same air. “And I’m going to put you in your place.”

 

It was too much for him to bare, not when he was in this state. Altair’s eyes went wide and turned glassy, his lips dry and tongue heavy. Those fingers were pulling at his collar as the world was turning smaller and smaller around him. He was walking through a tunnel with a light by the end of it and while he knew Alain wasn’t that light, he was still leaning towards him and into his touch, ready for what he could offer and desperate enough to accept it.

 

“Will you be my good boy tonight?” He asked and Altair’s eyes were set on his lips, watched how his tongue curled around every little letter.

 

He was nodding, he could feel the movement on his head but he didn’t remember giving his body the order to do so. His lips were moving, he heard himself whisper a small ‘Yes sir’ and those fingers curled around his collar, pulling him upwards-

 

“Altair!”

 

The spell was broken, the gray fog clouding Altair’s mind vanishing and he blinked rapidly, Alain’s fingers falling from his collar as he turned towards the voice.

 

“Altair”, Desmond said again, a shocked expression painted on his features and he reached out to grab his cousin by the shoulder. “I can’t even leave you alone for a few minutes before you to decide to go with the first Dom who offers themselves? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

 

“Easy there,” Alain chirped in and put his hand on Desmond’s arm, gently pushing it away from Altair so he could step in between them. “You’re interrupting something here, I was just having a very… pleasant conversation with this boy here and-“

 

“That boy is my cousin and you’re not taking him anywhere,” Desmond said and Altair knew his cousin could get angry at times but he’d never got to witness it – today was a first time of many things, it seemed.

 

“I don’t think you’re the one making the decisions for him,” Alain said and while Altair could see it in his body language how annoyed he got by Desmond, it didn’t show in his voice.

 

“Yes it is – besides, he’s already taken,” and at this, Desmond looked around to set his gaze on Altair, crooking a finger at him. “Come here. I’ve found you someone. Someone good, better than… this one here,” he said with a snarl and gestured Altair to get to his side. He followed the silent order – he was crushed, a splitting headache building behind his brow making it feel as if somebody was hammering onto his head. He’d just came back to reality and wasn’t ready for the real world yet, still craving for something Alain could have given him. It hurt.

 

“Who says that?” Alain wanted to know and as if on cue, a shadow rose to Desmond’s side, reaching out to grab Altair by putting his arm around his shoulder. It left him breathless, a blanket of pure power embracing his body and soul, drowning him, suffocating him. He looked up, his gaze creeping along the body up his chest and throat to his face.

 

 

“Leonardo,” he gasped and Dr. Simonetti stared straight into his face and on his collar.


	3. Taking An Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr, feel free to chat me up on altairsrighthand.tumblr.com :-)

“Fuck,” Altair gasped and that one single word summed up his situation perfectly. Leonardo was looking at him still, blinking and there was no way of denying the movement of his eyes between Altair’s face and the collar around his neck. He shouldn’t have listened to Desmond. This has been nothing but a stupid idea right from the beginning and now he was so deep in trouble he probably wouldn’t make it out of that. Alain watched him and the look on his face slowly changed from confusion to pure simple annoyance. He rolled his eyes and made a small gesture of 'whatever' before vanishing, wordlessly, into the crowd behind him.

 

“Aren’t you the detective from this morning?” Leonardo looked at him with disbelieve but was the first one to cover from the mild shock.

 

“You know each other?” Desmond asked as Altair only seemed to possess the ability to open and close his mouth like a fish out of water. His bones were running dangerously hot while the temperature of his skin dropped below zero. His body hurt all over and Altair wanted to do nothing more but to crawl back and away from Leonardo’s gaze – it burnt him all over and yet he was unable to move, unable to look anywhere but at the Dominant.

 

“Well, aren’t you?” Leonardo asked again and his tone dropped a little but still loud enough for Altair to hear over the music.

 

He nodded slowly and swallowed hard, “Yes sir,” he heard himself saying, his own voice so foreign to his own ears that it scared the hell out of him. He’d never witnessed himself behaving like that. “You’re a submissive,” Leonardo said with a frown as he sat down opposite of Altair with Desmond following him. “You didn’t wear your collar this morning.”

 

“Alright, alright – we need a break hear,” Desmond said before Leonardo could say more but he wasn’t taking his eyes off Altair and Altair, the needy, pitiful sub he was that moment was already caught in Leonardo’s spell. “Why do you two know each other?” Desmond gestured between Altair and Leonardo.

 

“We’ve… met this morning”, Leonardo said and cocked his head to one side, watching Altair closely and noticed his distress immediately. “Don’t you want to tell him?” He asked and while his voice held a note that made it impossible for Altair to resist, it was also gentle, almost caring.

 

“I’ve met him while investigating a case,” Altair answered, his voice sounding a bit like a robot but dear god, he felt the sudden rush of adrenaline just following this simple order given by Leonardo. It was enough to make his heart beat fast inside his chest and for his fingertips to tingle with pure delight. “Walker and I asked a few questions.”

 

“Oh.” Desmond’s brows met the line of his hair. “What are the odds?”

 

“Right,” Leonardo said and took a sip of his drink, watching Altair closely over the rim of his glass. “What are the odds,” he muttered probably more to himself than to anybody else. “What’s wrong with your cousin?” He asked Desmond. “He doesn’t look good.”

 

It just was that obvious, wasn’t it? Altair fell back into his seat, shoulders slumping as if he didn’t possess the strength anymore to keep himself upright.

 

“He needs a Fix,” Desmond said with a gesture of his hand. “I’ve told you.”

 

“He looks like as if he needs more than that,” Leonardo muttered with a frown and that was probably true, because Altair felt like shit at the moment as if he was going cold turkey. Which he probably was with the difference that he just couldn’t shoot something up his veins and then feel better.

 

“He’s in complete denial about his Link and what he is”, Desmond moaned and Altair wanted to glare at him, wanted to tell him to shut the fuck that he was ruining his complete life here and that it was none of Leonardo’s business but he couldn’t. His lips wouldn’t listen to his brain and move to form an answer, and his body felt no longer underneath his own control.

 

“I could have guessed so,” Leonardo nodded and rubbed his chin, then leaned a bit forwards. “You really need some, don’t you boy?” Leonardo asked and it was the moment Altair would later remember as the moment his entire soul just broke apart. He nodded and he’d never felt more defeated in his entire life – he felt like a huge failure.

 

“God I’ve been trying to tell him that for months now,” Desmond groaned frustrated and ruffled his hair. “But he’d never listen to me.”

 

“You’re his cousin, family bonds don’t have much of an influence on subs,” Leonardo explained. “I’ve seen worse than him but he’s in no good condition at all,” he told Desmond with a quick glance at him before he turned his focus back on Altair. “I can help you,” he said in a soft voice as if he was speaking to a hurt and frightened deer. “I’d say you come home with me tonight boy, and I see what I can do to fix you.”

 

“I think you should listen to him,” Desmond said. “I’ve said I’d look out for you tonight and I think you’re in good hands with him.”

 

Altair barely heard his words – at this state, he’d probably go home with everybody. He could feel how the sane part of his mind shrunk to a tiny ball at the back of his head, the voice of reason fading more and more to nothing but a small whisper. Instead his other side took over, his primal instincts scratching at the inside of his head, screaming at him to follow what nature had planned for him all along. “I need a fix,” he said although the words which laid heavily on his tongue were _Yes sir_ and _Please sir_. This was his last act of sanity, the final act of fighting all of his instincts before surrendering to Leonardo.

 

Leonardo smiled and it was warm and honest, nothing like the guy’s smile before – it was inviting and charming and Altair wanted to follow it so badly.

 

“Then let me fix you,” he offered before reaching down his pocket to pull out a small piece of paper as well as a pen out of his jacket. He wrote something down quickly and shoved it over to Desmond. “That’s my number and my home address, this is where I’ll bring him. You come and pick him up tomorrow at eight. I do what I can but I can’t promise it’ll be enough”, he explained to his cousin and Desmond nodded in return. When he turned towards Altair he said, “This is what’s going to happen. I’ll pay for my drink and then you’ll get up and get yours and mine jacket. I’ve parked outside in front of the club, you’ll come with me and I drive us both home. Clear boy?”

 

At this point he couldn’t hear the music playing anymore – he couldn’t see Desmond anymore. He set his focus completely on Leonardo and nothing else. His eyes were watching his lips move with every word he said and Altair could almost taste them on his tongue. He nodded slowly, “Yes sir.”

 

“Good,” Leonardo smiled before he gestured Desmond to let him out, please. “I won’t take long then,” he said before vanishing in the dancing crowd to make his way over to the bar. Altair turned his head and his eyes followed him until he couldn’t see him any longer.

 

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Desmond said with a grin and clapped his shoulder but Altair didn’t react. “He’s definitely better than the guy you were just talking to,” he added and shuddered as he pulled a face. “He was awkward, didn’t have a good feeling about him. Right Altar?” Altair?” Desmond squeezed his shoulder but Altair was still looking at the spot where he’d seen Leonardo the last time.

 

“Fuck,” Desmond muttered. “It really _is_ that bad isn’t it? Shit, I had no idea Altair. You’re such a stubborn motherfucker, if I would have just known…” He sighed and run his hand over his face before glancing up the ceiling before looking back down at Altair. “I’ll be there tomorrow okay? I promise, you’ll feel better afterwards… I hope,” he added in a small whisper but Altair didn’t hear him anyway. All he really heard was the blood pumping through his veins and the quick beat of his heart. Where was Leonardo? Where?

 

He released a breath not aware of holding as he saw the doctor emerging from between two people dancing. Altair didn’t realize it but there were traces of a faint smile on his lips – for a moment he’d feared the man would abandon him. “He okay?” Leonardo asked Desmond.

 

“He will be,” his cousin replied. “I trust you won’t hurt him?”

 

“Not unless he wants me to,” Leonardo offered a small smirk just to lighten the mood a bit. “I’ve done this several times already,” he added to ease Desmond’s worries. “I take good care of him.”

 

“Alright.” Desmond rubbed the back of his back before he squeezed Altair’s shoulder one last time. He wasn’t looking at him but at Leonardo. He probably didn’t even realize Desmond was still there. “I see you tomorrow buddy,” and with one last single nod at Leonardo, he disappeared into the shadows of the club.

 

“Get up,” Leonardo told Altair and made some room so he could come out of the booth. He pressed a small round chip into Altair’s hand, red plastic with the number thirteen on it. “Go and get me my coat boy.”

 

It was like moving through heavy gray fog – Altair had never felt something like this before. Yes, his last fix up was years ago but he hasn’t been in such a bad state back then nor was the man he’s been with as good as Leonardo. He could already by the sheer tone of his voice that it wasn’t the first time for Leonardo doing this, that he was an experienced man who know exactly what he wanted and exactly what he expected of his subs. He could feel Leonardo following him by the light tingle in his neck and how his hair stood to end there. Altair avoided clashing with a group of dancing people and completely ignored that woman with a collar and a leach kneeling to her Dom’s feet – his goal was the checkroom attendant and to get Leonardo’s coat as well as his own from there. He fumbled with his pocket and found his own chip there, the number 88 on it. There was a small line and Altair had to wait but in the end he handed both ships over wordlessly and waited for the woman to return with the two jackets.

 

When he turned around Leonardo was already standing there, taking his coat from Altair’s hand with a smile. “Good boy,” he praised him and those two words were almost enough to knock his feet from underneath his body. It did in fact make him stumble a bit and Leonardo reached out, his hand resting on his back all warm and comfortable like a weight pulling Altair towards the welcoming abyss. “Easy there,” he muttered and pulled Altair close against his body, his lips moving near his ear. “I know you’re not used to this boy – right now it probably feels more like the ride on a rollercoaster to you, doesn’t it? We’ll get there. I’ll ease you into it – you’re going to feel much better tomorrow.”

 

He wanted to believe those words and the greater part of Altair really did – he trusted Leonardo with this. Forgotten was the man he was sitting opposite of this morning, all there was, was the man he’d met just a few minutes ago and who promised him so much. This was not Leonardo the doctor, part of the case he was currently working it. This was Leonardo, a man and Dominant who could bring him the so much needed peace. And Altair wanted nothing more than submit to him.

 

“Yes sir,” he said and by now the words didn’t feel as if cutting his tongue anymore when he spoke them, they didn’t feel as heavy in his throat as they did before.

 

“Put your jacket on,” Leonardo said as he added a bit of pressure to the small of Altair’s back guiding him towards the exit. “We take a small walk down the street to my car.”

 

The night was still young but it was could and at some point it’d rained. There were puddle forming on the sidewalk and the light of the street lamps was reflecting in them. They were passing the line of people waiting to get inside, Leonardo waving a good bye at the bouncers. His hands stayed on Altair’s back and he was thankful for that – the touch kept him in reality, kept him connected to the ground and prevented him from drifting off into subspace too fast.

 

“It’s the black one over there,” Leonardo muttered into his ear, their steps echoing from the high building surrounding them. He must have pushed a button on the key inside his pocket because as soon as he said it, the lights of the car came to live. “Why won’t you open the door for me?”

 

He turned his head briefly towards Leonardo just enough so he could watch him from the corner of his eye. Leonardo was still smiling, still held this warm and authority in his gaze, a mixture that made it hard for Altair to resist. His steps moved up and he walked faster than Leonardo now, his arm falling off Altair’s back and he quickly rounded the car, his fingers reaching for the door handle to pull it open. He was trembling all over and felt a bit cold at the sudden loss of Leonardo’s touch. The effect he had on Altair was strong, stronger than anything he’d ever felt before but dear god, this felt right, so unbelievable right.

 

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t resist it any longer. Altair had lost and failure never felt better to him.

 

 

xxx

 

 

 

It wasn’t an apartment or apartment complex Leonardo was bringing him to but a whole freaking house he stopped in front of. It was white with a cute little fence in the front, a porch with two pairs of rockers standing there and some flowers planted in the front. It was somewhere in the suburbs, Altair realized that and it looked peaceful and nothing like anything he would have expected. Leonardo was looking backwards when he parked his car on the driveway and there was this light frown of concentration standing on his face, “When I turn off the engine,” he said as he put the gear into parking, “I want you to get out and open the door from, alright?”

 

Altair nodded, “Yes sir.”

 

“Good,” Leonardo nodded and turned the wheel one more time before the tires stood straight and he was satisfied with the car’s position. His hand turned the key and the engine died.

 

Altair got up and out of the car, walking around the hood and opened the door for Leonardo waiting for him to get out. Leonardo nodded approvingly at Altair but it wasn’t followed by a ‘Good boy’ like last time – not when Leonardo had learned how much of an effect it had on a starving sub like Altair. He’d told him they would take it slow, after all.

 

The keys rattled when Leonardo pulled them out of his pocket and he made a gesture at Altair to follow him. He unlocked the front door and it was dark inside, Altair following Leonardo inside and closed the door behind him. After Leonardo switched the light on, Altair could hear footsteps coming down a stair next to his right, some dim light shining from the first floor. He was surprised to see a man coming down, wearing nothing but boxers and a shirt, collar around his neck and hair tousled. He looked from between Leonardo and Altair but wasn’t really surprised to see the latter. Instead his shoulders slumped and he wore a rather annoyed expression on his face. “Please don’ tell me you’ve brought another stray home.”

 

Leonardo clicked his tongue as he pulled off his coat to open a small wardrobe in the wall to hang it up in there, his keys placed on a small table standing underneath a large mirror. “First of all, use that tone with me again and we’re going to have a long talk about good behavior again, secondly he’s not a stray but in much need for a fix up,” Leonardo said unimpressed but it did have the effect he probably wished for, the man’s shoulders pulling upwards and his back straightening.

 

“Sorry sir,” he muttered and kept standing on the last stair, leaning against the wall with one shoulder and arms crossed in front of his chest.

 

“Altair,” Leoanardo said with a small gesture, “this is Ezio. He’s my Link. Say hi to him.”

 

He held out his hand for Ezio to shake, “Nice to meet you sir.”

 

At that the sub’s eyebrows rose and he turned his gaze towards Leonardo, “It’s really that bad?”

 

Leonardo nodded, “His cousin came up to talk with me at the _3:88_ and told me he’s there with his cousin who’s in bad shape. He decided to bring him there and look for a Dominant to take him home. His cousin feared that he’s already in such a bad state he’d follow every idiot, he didn’t want him to meet the wrong person – and he wasn’t wrong about that, he was already talking to a bad match for him,” Leonardo said with a small nod towards Altair, completely ignoring the part that he’d already met Altair earlier that day in a whole different role, pretending to be a Dominant even.

 

“I see,” Ezio nodded. “So you couldn’t really say no to that and abandoned why you’ve came there the first place?”

 

“Not tonight Ezio,” Leonardo said with a small voice and held up his hand. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow but for tonight I… need to take care of him,” he added and turned towards Altair.

 

“If there’s anything you need help with,” Ezio started but Leonardo cut him off with a smile and a wave of his hand.

 

“I will call you, don’t worry but for now I want you to go back to sleep and rest some – you didn’t have much the last couple of nights.”

 

Ezio nodded to that, not able to say no to such an order. He took the last stair down, his naked feet moving over the carped and leaned in for a small kiss. “Good night then and… hopefully it’s going to be a successful night.” He glanced quickly at Altair who was still standing there in his jacket and all, watching the scene unfolding in front of him with dull eyes.

 

“Have fun,” he waved at Altair before he took the stairs back upwards, the dim light turned back off shortly after.

 

Leonardo turned his gaze and all of his attention back to Altair and it felt like such a relief that Altair released a low breath, his tense muscles easing into a more comfortable state. It felt good to have Leonardo’s focus back on him – it felt good to have those eyes roaming over his body, making him feel like the center of the whole world. “Take your jacket and shoes off, please – you can hang your jacket here,” he pointed towards the wardrobe, “and leave your shoes right there,” Leonardo looked towards the floor next to the wardrobe where a line of shoes was already standing – he kept his own on though.

 

“Yes sir,” Altair nodded as he unzipped his jacket, putting it on a hanger and placed it right next to Leonardo’s coat before he took off his shoes as well. He’d have always thought for this to feel strange, being in the house of a person he hardly knew at all, invading foreign space like that. But it didn’t, instead Altair felt it burning underneath his skin – he felt like a small child again who waited at Christmas Eve for Santa to come and bring the presents, too excited to sleep. He was excited he could it feel shifting underneath his skin, moving back and forth in waves and at some point, he thought he couldn’t stand it any longer. He was practically beaming, trembling with pure want and Leonardo probably noticed because he wore that small smile on his lips.

 

“You and I, we’re going to have a talk in the living room,” he said as he already turned around and walked down the long hall until he reached the very end of it walking through the door. Altair followed him. The living room itself was huge with a nice fireplace at one end of it and a built in kitchen at the other side. Leonardo turned on the lights but dimmed them down to a minimum before turning a switch so the fire would come to life. The furniture was held in all white, the couch and armchairs made out of leather with a white carpet lying in the middle of it that looked so fluffy Altair feared he would sink into it by stepping on it. Leonardo made a detour to a small cabinet where he got out a glass and a bottle of what looked as if it was whiskey or maybe some sherry, Altair couldn’t really tell. He poured himself a glass without offering Altair any, then sat down onto the couch, right in the middle of it.

 

Altair made to follow him and decided for a seat in one of the armchairs but Leonardo clicked his tongue and waved his finger at him. “Come here,” he said and pointed towards the floor to his feet. “Kneel and sit back on your heels with arms behind your back please.”

 

 

He swallowed hard, the words twisting his guts in a good way. He felt lightheaded again while the tips of his fingers and toes started to tingle. Altair moved over to the spot Leonardo was pointing at with heavy limbs and slowly lowered himself, taking the position he was told to.

 

“Now,” Leonardo said and swirled the content inside the glass by rotating his hand a bit, the fire illuminating his face in a soft orange glow, “this is better. You’re working as a cop, don’t you?” Although Leonardo already knew that, Altair still nodded and licked across his lip carefully.

 

“Does anybody know you’re a submissive?”

 

He shook his head, “No sir.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because nobody would take me serious.”

 

It was a simple but an honest answer and Leonardo just nodded to that as he pursed his lips – to Altair’s surprise, the answer seemed to be satisfying enough for him to not push the matter any further.  “When did you decide to take off your collar?”

 

“When I was eighteen,” Altair said and his eyes lowered with shame.

 

Leonardo released a low whistle. “That’s impressive. And such a long time, too. How regularly do you get your Fix ups?”

 

Altair shook his head and since he was unable to meet Leonardo’s gaze, turned his eyes towards the man’s feet. “I don’t… get them on a regular basis. I chose to ignore my urges…” His voice turned small and he felt his cheeks heating with a blush.

 

“That explains so much,” Leonardo hummed. “But I can make you an offer boy,” and that word pulled Altair’s eye to Leonardo’s face right away. “You come here two times a month, that’ll probably enough for you,” he muttered softly. “I give you what you need and you can keep on living with your little lie.”

 

Altair swallowed hard, this was certainly not what he’d expected to hear tonight.

 

“But I want something in return,” Leonardo added quickly and his eyes narrowed, the smile slowly vanishing from his face. “Whenever you get the chance you’re going to wear your collar. Whenever you get the chance and can afford, you’re going to behave like a sub. You forgot who you’re really are Altair – there’s no wonder you can’t feel your Link. But I can help you with that. I can _fix_ you on so many levels you probably can’t imagine yet.” Leonardo leaned back a little, the glass balanced on his knee and the smile was returning to his lips and eyes.  “I won’t tell anybody about your secret. Right now I like to pretend we didn’t meet at the free clinic this morning but at the _3:88_ – the only question is, can you do the same? Can you accept my offer, Altair?” He purred his name.

 

It was a risk, Altair knew that. It’d turn his life completely upside down, it would make it probably even more complicated. Right now he couldn’t see the good that would come out of the deal but he also knew, the life he was leading now couldn’t continue like this forever. Sooner or later it’d destroy him – sooner or later he would meet a Dom who wouldn’t be as kind Leonardo. Altair’s eyes shifted from between the carped and Leonardo’s face, the man waiting patiently for his answer.

 

He felt that tingle at the back of his head again when he formed to words inside his head. He looked up at Leonardo, meeting his gaze.

 

“I accept.”


	4. Mother Love

“You know,” Leonardo said after a moment of just admiring the view he had of the man kneeling down to his feet, “I’m not one of those people who believe a sub doesn’t has a will of their own. Sadly, there are too many out there who do”, he added with a slight nod and his eyes grew distant for a moment as if he was remembering something he wasn’t ready to share with Altair. “There are people who think just because it’s in someone’s nature to follow orders, to be happy to kneel at somebody’s feet… that they’re weak. That it’s easy to push them around, to abuse them, and not only physically but also mentally.”

 

“You know it’s a dangerous state you’re in Altair,” Leonardo added. “Because you’re so far gone you’d easily let the latter happen to you. Your instincts would take a hold of you and switch off your judgment. A sub with a broken judgment lives a dangerous life – I’m sure you’ve heard that before haven’t you?”

 

Altair nodded – it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It was Desmond who was always warning him about it. It’s what happened to most of the Jane and John Does he and Walker were called to at work.

 

“I think that’s exactly one of your problems,” Leonardo hummed and spread both his arms to each side of the couch while his legs rose so he could put his feet up onto the small living room table standing behind Altair in the center. “You don’t trust anybody, do you?”

 

He shook his head, “No sir.” The longer Altair knelt down to his feet, the more it became more comfortable for him; the more it was like coming home. He still felt like being in a daze but Leonardo’s voice was doing a good job guiding him through the thick fog clouding his mind.

 

“You’re a stubborn one,” Leonardo hummed with amusement. “It’s rather interesting, I’d say.” He thought for a moment before his brows drew tightly together. “Tell me what bothers you the most.”

 

Altair looked up, “I think I don’t understand sir.”

 

“What is it you’re missing? What would you need me to do for you to wake up tomorrow and feel newborn?”

 

Oh. Altair turned his eyes down onto the white carpet. There was that light burn again which started at his cheeks and traveled all the way up to his ear - the fact that he felt his blush giving birth didn’t make it any easier, it made it just worse. “I’m not sure I understand the question,” he muttered softly.

 

“Well, alright,” Leonardo said and changed his position again, his arms dropping so he could put his hands into his lap while still holding on to that glass, his legs coming off the table so his feet met the ground next to Altair. “Let me tell you something else about Dominants and submissives.”Leonardo cleared his throat and while Altair still didn’t feel brave enough to rise his eyes and meet his gaze, he was still very interested in what Leonardo wanted to tell him.

 

“Like everybody else, you know when we’re born our fate has already been decided by nature. You’re either born submissive or Dominant. Usually it doesn’t show the first years after birth but manifests when we hit puberty, in most cases that is. Looking at you I’d say you knew you were submissive when you were… twelve? Eleven maybe?”

 

Altair released a small gasp. “When I was twelve sir.”

 

“You weren’t happy about it.”

 

He shook his head, “No. I’ve wanted to become a cop my whole life.” His voice was small and uneven. “I knew that dream was hopeless the moment I realized who I really was. Everybody in my family has always thought I’m born Dominant.”

 

“Must have crushed you back then,” Leonardo said with an understanding voice.

 

Altair nodded, “It was the worst day of my life.”

 

“So you’ve decided to take your collar off a few years later.”

 

Altair looked up, “Yes. I've wanted to do so earlier but I needed to find somebody who takes it off for me."

 

“And you’ve never thought about the consequences?”

 

“I did but- I guess I didn’t really care about them.”

 

“When we’re born, we’re already Linked to our soulmates, Altair. That’s the whole plan; somebody else has already decided who we’re going to spend the rest of our lives with. Submissives are often considered weak because if their Link is broken they die - unlike Dominants. But personally, I don’t believe that. It must be terrible to live a life without your soulmate by your side - I’d rather chose death than to experience that,” Leonardo said in a low voice. “And the number of Dominants who commit suicide after they’ve lost their sub is quite high.” He sighed and changed his weight. “I know there are scientists out there who try to see if they can change somebody’s Pick, if it’s possible to find a cure,” and at that he made small quotation marks in the air using his fingers, “for being born submissive or Dominant. If you ask me, those scientists are trying to play God. There’s nothing wrong being born either way.”

 

Altair nodded to all that and listened carefully. He could agree with all of what Leonardo was saying but personally, he thought that didn’t fit for him. “If they find out who I really am, they’re going to take my license,” he whispered.

 

“Because you’ve lied but not because you’re submissive.”

 

“There are too many submissives out there who are denied to get into certain jobs,” Altair said with an angry glare and when Leonardo rose one finger, he realized he’d moved a bit forwards with his hands falling from his back and fists in front of his chest. Altair slowly returned to his prior position.

 

“You’re right about that, but the world is on a better way already. If a job is what it keeps you from accepting who you really are then- then it’s really sad Altair. You deny yourself your own happiness. And your Link’s happiness.” Leonardo thought for a moment. “You’re a tough case,” Leonardo chuckled. “But not a hopeless one. Let’s get back to my question. What are you missing in your life?”

 

“I really don’t understand that question.”

 

“Alright. Then we try it a different way,” Leonardo hummed with a small smile splitting his lips. “The part of our brain where it’s decided if we’re submissive or Dominant is tightly connected with the part of our brain where we experience pleasure. A sub receives pleasure from following their Dom’s orders, it makes them feel good about themselves.” Leonardo pressed his lips together then reached into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a small pack of cigarettes. He talked with one dangling from between his lips as he took out his lighter, “It also gives them sexual satisfaction. Just like Doms seek their pleasure from watching a submissive follow their command.”

 

Altair looked carefully up at Leonardo. “I can offer you all of that,” the doctor said. “If its sexual pleasure you’re looking for, I can give you that,” he nodded. “If you need me to fill the gaping hole of your submissive self, I’ll gladly give you some orders and if needed, even during the days when we won’t see each other.” He leaned back again after he placed his glass onto the table in front of him. “So?”

 

Altair had no idea how to answer that. It was such an intimate question and something he wouldn’t have expected Leonardo to ask him - but then again, Leonardo was a Dominant and as it seemed, a very experienced Dominant. Of course he would ask that - and of course Altair would find himself unable to avoid answering him. “I need all of those options sir,” he said and his blush was rising high up his cheeks.

 

“Have you ever done something like this before Altair? Have you ever had a sexual Fix?”

 

He shook his head, his toes growing numb and he stretched his fingers a little behind his back. When he looked up, he could see high windows rising behind Leonardo’s shoulder leading out into a more than generous backyard. It was dark outside and he couldn’t see much but Altair just knew by his guts that it was big. “No sir,” he answered truthfully, then looked up some more. “But I have a question for you sir.”

 

Leonardo made a welcoming gesture and bowed his head just so, “Please.”

 

“Are you doing this on a regular basis? Going out into clubs picking up Broken subs just like me? Or is this a business of yours?”

 

At that Leonardo frowned and his eyes grew small. For a moment Altair thought he’d done something wrong but when he saw the expression on Leonardo’s face melt into something more friendlily he released a soft sigh. “That’s something I’d rather not answer now. But,” he sighed and stretched a little, “tell me, have you been a good boy as of lately?”

 

Altair couldn’t do much but simply stare at Leonardo. He thought the man had some fine taste, wearing a three piece suit which probably made him look so much out of place back at the club, the deep gray waistcoat fitted perfectly to the blue button up shirt he wore and the dark red tie was something to die for. Probably. All in all, Altair couldn’t deny the fact that Leonardo was an attractive man - also couldn’t deny the fact how much of an impact he had on Altair’s libido. “No sir, I don’t think I have.”

 

“How come?” Leonardo asked with one arched eyebrow.

 

“Well for starters I… pretty much lie to every person I meet on a regular basis. I’ve lied to you this morning,” and Altair looked up meeting Leonardo’s gaze and there was no way Altair could look anywhere but him. “I’ve lied to you and a lot of people,” he added.

 

“Do you wish correction for that?” Leonardo leaned forwards and picked up his glass, looking at the leftover inside then took a sip from it. “Do you wish to make up for your sins, _boy_?”

 

“I simply wish for somebody to put me back into my place,” Altair said with such confidence that it was surprising - even to himself. It was probably the first time in all his life he’d said something like that. It was the first time of him admitting that there was something terrible missing in his life. Desmond has been right all along and while Altair has always known that, it was by far more difficult to admit to that to himself. Doing so now was almost liberating, doing it in front of Leonardo though felt like as if he was king of the world.

 

He watched how Leonardo narrowed his eyes at him. “There’s a dresser behind me near the windows.” Leonardo said. “When you pull out the first drawer you’ll find a paddle in there. You get it for me and you will strip in front of me afterwards, boy. I’m going to give you fifty strokes, each one of them for all the sins you’ve done in your life - and afterwards, when I feel generous enough, I even jerk you off.”

 

Not in a million years he’d expected to hear such a sentence coming out of Leonardo’s mouth - not in a million years. Yes, he’d only known him for an hour, maybe an hour and a half. Still, Leonardo looked innocent, he was rather ordinary and so much different from the Doms Altair had met in his life before. He wasn’t demanding per se but he possessed that aura which made Altair wish to be able to fulfill all of his demands, no matter what they were and no matter at what costs. He got up, locked his gaze with Leonardo once more before he turned his head to let his eyes roam across the room. He could see the dresser Leonardo has been mentioning and with quick steps, Altair crossed the distance only to pull the first drawer open. There was a rather generous number of all sort of whips inside, canes too, metal rods, and a bullwhip even. Altair pulled out the paddle and left everything else untouched.

  
He put it onto the couch table and stood up straight once more. He rose his hands to pull his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, then slowly started to strip in front of the man. Once he was done, he waited. It was warm and still, Altair felt cold, his hair standing to end on his arms and he shifted his weight uncomfortable from one foot to the other. It was hard to not just cover himself again and get as fast away as possible.

 

Leonardo said nothing for an unnerving amount of time and Altair felt himself slowly growing restless. Leonardo simply sat there, watching him and how his chest rose and fell with every breath he took.

 

“Good”, Leonardo nodded after a while, then stood slowly to take the paddle off the table. He let the weight rest comfortable in his hand, felt it, turned it, and looked at it from different angles as if he was seeing it for the first time today. “I’ve thought about something, Altair,” he said and flipped off the last from his cigarette before stubbing it out in the small ashtray there. “I think if we keep doing this, we can even help you out with that Link issue you have.”

 

“I don’t need help with that sir,” Altair said and maybe he should feel more intimidated about standing in front of fully clothed man with a paddle in one hand, a Dominant even while he was naked. It should maybe make him feel small, frightened but it didn’t. It had quite the opposite effect on Altair and he held his chin up high, meeting Leonardo’s gaze without blinking.

 

“Like you haven’t needed help before, mh?” Leonardo chuckled and walked around Altair and Altair could feel his eyes moving from his toes up to his head and back again, roaming all over of his body. 

 

“I can take care of that perfectly fine,” Altair said and _smack_! The paddle came down, the sound of rubber meeting skin filling the whole room. It didn’t exactly hurt, the blow itself was rather light but it came with surprise, unexpected and it was something Altair hadn’t felt before. He sucked the air sharply in, held his breath for two, three seconds then released it slowly between his lips. Leonardo stood closely behind him, his breath moving through the short hair just above Altair’s neck. He could hear him breathing when his hand moved over the spot he’d just hit on his left buttock.

 

“You can?” Leonardo asked in a whisper close to his ear. “Aren’t you lying to yourself again?”

 

Altair swallowed and didn’t answer. “That was number one by the way. The next one I expect you to be counting,” Leonardo added.

 

His teeth were clenched, fingers curled to fists and he rocked a little forwards on his feet when Leonardo hit him once more. “Two.”

 

“You know, there are people who get confused about their Links sometimes,” Leonardo hummed absently as he took another step around Altair, stopping in front of him with a distant look in his eyes. He turned the paddle in his hand, his fingers moving over the handle and the dark rubber. “While most times, you’re Link if the one you’ll fall in love with for the rest of your life, it doesn’t has to be like this always. People confuse finding their soulmate with finding the one they love. But while your Link is your soulmate, it doesn’t mean it’s the one you end up loving.”

 

“Those cases are rare,” – _smack_ -, “but they can happen.”

 

“Three,” Altair said in a soft tone and by now, Leonardo’s strokes came with more force. It wasn’t the type of pain he couldn’t stand but it was a pain which was foreign to him. The blow itself was sharp and delivering a heat that spread quickly underneath Altair’s skin only to fade out into a soft burn, a nice memory of a not too gentle touch.

 

“What do you think, what’s your Link going to be?”

 

“Nothing,” Altair said and down came the fourth one and this one came with such force, it made Altair take a step forwards. The low after burn slowly turned into something more, not that unpleasant but it was a warning of what was yet to come. Leonardo was a pro. He was startled by the hand reaching up, setting low at his neck adding just the right amount of pressure there.

 

“I have to do a lot of work with you, don’t I?” Leonardo hummed into his ear, watching Altair’s profile closely as he let his fingers sprawl over Altair’s hip and close to his crotch.

 

“It seems like it sir,” Altair whispered without turning his head, staring straight ahead. He hissed when he was met by the fifth stroke but Altair fell back further into himself, taking a long and deep breath. His lips were quivering when he pulled his corner up to the smallest of smile. “Five.”

 

xxx

 

 

He was greeted by the smell of cooked bacon and scrambled eggs in the morning.

 

Altair groaned as he slowly stretched underneath the covers, the soft fabric of the blanket hugging his body delivering such comfort he wouldn’t want to dismiss anytime soon. He was stretched out stomach first on the big couch Leonardo had first taken his seat on yesterday evening, a cushion crumbled underneath his head and pulled close to his chest. He shifted his weight again by pulling his left leg up knee bent and stretched his right one – it made him painfully aware of the memories from last night and there was this smile forming on his lips. Leonardo’s been right about this. He really did feel like newborn. In fact, he felt incredible. The sounds of somebody moving through the kitchen filled his ears and while Altair felt sore all over, this wasn’t anything close to a hangover. He lazily cracked one eye open and stared at the back of the couch. Drawers were pulled open, a pan was lifted up from the stove, and plates were pulled out of cabinets. Altair turned his head, his cheek resting against his arm squishing his lips so he almost gave the impression of a fish.

 

It was the same man working in the kitchen he’d met last night, Ezio was his name if he remembered correctly and Leonardo’s Link. It was probably early in the morning, Altair couldn’t tell the exact time since he had no idea where his cellphone was currently at, but he was already fully clothed with an apron tied around his waist and wearing one of the most beautiful collars Altair had ever seen. It was very wide, looked like Victorian style too and maybe a bit feminine but it was fitting the man who wore his hair long, held back by a small red bow at the low part of his neck with single strands of hair coming loose and framing his face. Altair could see black lace worked into the collar, and in the middle of it where the O-ring was, sat a stone which looked like an opal who’d captured a sunset for eternity inside of it. Ezio was currently pouring orange juice into three glasses when he noticed Altair’s opened eyes. He flashed him a smile with a perfect row of white teeth.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Altair swallowed hard and he pushed himself upwards, carefully sitting up with the blanket gathering in his lap. “Good morning,” he said and his voice was rough and dry due from sleep.

 

“We usually have a spare room for our guests,” Ezio said as he poured the scrambled eggs equally onto the plates, “but Leonardo told me you passed out onto the couch.” He winked at Altair. “Must have been a rough night,” he said with arched eyebrows and a sort of impressed expression on his face.

 

Altair huffed and pulled himself up and off the couch wearing the blanket around his waist as he searched for his shirt, “I’ve lived through worse,” he simply said and snatched his boxers up, then fetched his socks – but where was his shirt?

 

“Leonardo said you were almost Broken,” Ezio chattered on while Altair looked behind a large cushion but no, no shirt there.

 

“Leonardo tells you everything he does, doesn’t he?” Altair called over his shoulder. He thought for a moment – so where could his shirt be? Behind the couch? Nope. Not there either.

 

“Leonardo doesn’t really has to tell me much, he’s my Link.”

 

“You two really like to rub that underneath everybody’s nose, huh?” Altair pulled his shirt free from between two cushions with a triumphal ‘yes!’ before quickly pulling it over his head and down his chest.

 

“He said he’s never seen somebody in your state still able to walk and stand up right,” Ezio said ignoring Altair’s little comment and set the table instead, adding silverware and coffee to it before he brought the full plates over. He pressed the button of the toaster after feeding it with two slices of bread, then reached for a newspaper sitting on the counter and set it down next to one of the plates. “Is it true?” He asked with a quick glance upwards at Altair who was busy closing his belt. Ezio filled one of the cups with coffee, the one where he placed the newspaper next to, then added an enormous amount of cream to it.

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Altair muttered as he walked over to the kitchen.

 

Ezio snorted, “Alright then. Leonardo said you’re invited for breakfast today but next time you better work your ass for it,” he grinned then sat down. The toaster popped the two slices of bread, and Ezio reached for them, adding them to the plate with the steaming cup of coffee next to it. “I mean, from what I’ve heard you’re going to come over more often now,” Ezio told him with a grin and Altair simply groaned as he reached for the coffee to pour himself a cup.

 

 

xxx

 

 

 

 

“Do you know what happens when a Link breaks?” Leonardo asked him somewhere near the end of their breakfast and not after he’d sent Ezio off to get himself ready for the day.

 

“I’d die,” Altair said unimpressed and picked at the last crumbles of scrabbled egg on his plate.

 

“Exactly.” Leonardo pointed with his fork at Altair. “And how does a Link break?”

 

“Well, you pretty much isolate the sub from their Dom and make sure they’re not able to get into contact with each other and-“

 

“And you take their Token,” Leonardo said with narrowed eyes and an icy cold voice. “A promise to come back,” Leonardo explained further. “Ezio has something from me he knows I can’t live without – so when I go out through that door for work, Ezio knows I _have_ to return back to him. I know it’s old fashioned and a lot of people believe Tokens are a silly thing and nothing up to date anymore but I believe in them. Ezio believes in them, and a lot of subs I’ve met held those Tokens dear to them.”

 

“Stephanie too?” Altair suddenly asked and he knew shouldn’t have done that – it was bad, very bad to bring work into this but he could no longer ignore it, the questions pulling at his head and pushing his insides out.

 

Leonardo looked at him and his face was set into a hard mask – he’d never thought to witness such a look on him, it seemed so out of place and nothing like he would see fitting for Leonardo. “You better finish,” Leonardo said and his gaze turned onto his plate, it was better to look there than anywhere else – especially not at Altair. “You’re probably already running late for work.”

 

xxx

 

 

He was late for work. Two hours to be exactly and Walker was _furious._

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to cover for you?” He hissed at him as soon as Altair walked into their office, closing the door behind him.

 

“I never asked for you to do that,” Altair shrugged and put the brown paper bag containing a muffin and a chocolate glazed donut onto his desk followed by a cup of coffee.

 

“You don’t really want Garnier up on your ass,” Walker muttered miserable and sent angry glares at Altair still, and if looks could kill, Altair would drop dead right now. He shuddered, “I wouldn’t want Garnier _anywhere_ near me,” he said.

 

“So are you thankful now that I’d saved your neck?”

 

“Why?” Altair looked up at his partner as he sat down his chair. “Was he bothering you with something?”

 

Walker opened his mouth, his lips moved and he was saying a _lot_ of words Altair thought he was listening to – but in the end, he was only pretending to do so as his thoughts moved back and forth between the past and the present, recalling the memories of last night with a mixture of pure embarrassment filled with _Oh my god what have I done_ -thoughts and that smile he wore on his lips full of sweet satisfaction. Sitting down hurt, a small souvenir Leonardo had _allowed_ him to have – a sting he couldn’t ignore but right now, it left him at ease. The voices inside his head were turning down to a minimum and Altair couldn’t really remember the last time he’d felt _this_ good. And it wasn’t all thanks to his orgasm. The orgasm came in secondary and if Altair wouldn’t have been in such a bad state, he probably would have declined anything sexual but… He’d been under a lot of pressure. Literally.

 

What has felt like crashing though was the morning after – and Altair thought he could beat his own head in for bringing Stephanie’s name up. It was neither the right moment nor the right place to ask Leonardo about her. He should have waited and not jump to conclusions right away.

 

“Anyway,” Walker said, “we need to talk to Spehanie’s fiancée and somebody has to inform Mr. Daniels’ family about his death.”

 

“That didn’t happen already?” Altair frowned and Walker shook his head then reached across the table to get Altair’s cup of coffee without asking and took a sip.

 

“It was hard finding any relatives at all – I’ve wanted to tell you we got the names of his parents this morning but you were busy doing whatever the hell it was that makes you look stoned as hell,” Walker muttered. “His father is dead but his mother is still alive, she’s been living in a retirement home the last ten years and has Alzheimer’s.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“She probably forgets about her son’s death after an hour of you telling her.”

 

Altair looked up. “Why should I tell her?”

 

“Because I go and talk with Stephanie’s fiancée,” Walker said and made a rotating motion with his hand as he leaned forwards on the desk.

 

“I go talk with him,” Altair said with new confidence blossoming up in his chest – yesterday, he would have probably rather cut his tongue off than to argue with Walker.

 

“No, you go to the lady,” Walker insisted.

 

“Why?”

 

Walker sighed. “God Altair will you put that dick of yours back into your pants? You don’t need to prove your Dominance in front of me.” He rubbed his temple. “Since you’re late, I already checked in with Stephanie’s case and made an appointment with her fiancée. I’m going to drive up to his apartment in… oh would you look at that, now.” He turned this light sassy grin on Altair. “You go talk to the lady,” Walker added and the smirk died on his lips. His words also held the tone of somebody who wouldn’t accept any more resistance and if Altair would play it smart, he’d back down and look up Mrs. Daniels address, but he was fuelled with new energy from last night and the sudden flow of adrenaline running through his veins pushed the bitter aftertaste of his fuck up from this morning away. He reached across the table to get the keys to their car. But Walker was fast, his fingers curling around Altair’s wrist before he could pull his hand back.

 

“You’re so different this morning,” Walker muttered. “I don’t remember you ever being this feisty.”

 

“I’m not going to tell that Alzheimer’s lady her son’s dead,” Altair said carefully, and Walker gripped his wrist just a little more tightly.

 

“Yes you do,” his partner said. “And that’s the last word of it.”

 

xxx

 

He looked into the small rearview mirror checking his hair and appearance after he’d pulled up into the parking lot. The split lip and blue eye didn’t look good exactly but it could have been worse. Altair just wasn’t very good with making wise decisions at times and today showed not to be any different. He knew Walker didn’t look like it much, but he was a tough man and a strong man, a Dominant who’s power lies underneath a coat of calmness but once you’ve rattled his cage, you better searched for cover quickly.

 

Altair got out of the car and walked the small path leading to the home’s entrance. When he looked up the building the hair on his arms stood up to end – he could never shake off the depressing feeling he got from looking at these homes. He passed an old lady sitting in a wheelchair up the front and greeted her with a silent nod. Altair was certain she didn’t really notice him anyway but he’d never start to ignore old people no matter how far away they seemed.

 

The receptionist was a young woman, blond long hair and a set of green eyes that were absolutely stunning. Altair leaned on the counter and looked down at her, “I’d like to talk with Mrs. Daniels,” he said and pulled out his ID and held it out between two fingers for her take and look at it.

 

She nodded and Altair took a quick glance at her name tag sitting just above her right breast. Lisa. “Oh yeah, your department called earlier,” she said. “Mrs. Daniels is on the second floor. Let me call her caretaker for you – she’s scared of people she doesn’t know,” Lisa said and put the telephone between her shoulder and ear. “Yes,” she said after dialing a number and somebody picked up on the other side of the line, “the detective is here now. For Mrs. Daniel, will you- yes. Will you bring her downstairs? Alright. Okay. Thank you.” She put the phone back down and gestured towards a small seating area. “Her caretaker is coming down to meet with you,” she said.

 

xxx

 

“Mrs. Daniels didn’t have much visitors,” he said pushing her wheelchair through the retirement home’s park, a pair of headphones dangling from his collar falling down his chest, his breath smelling of peppermint from the chewing gum and the purple hair with the undercut gave him the look of a punk but not somebody who worked at a home as a geriatric nurse. His shirt was rolled up his bicep revealing a tattoo sleeve going down both arms and Altair was surprised he was even allowed to keep the eyebrow piercing. “She came here shortly after her husband died but I don’t really remember anybody visiting her but her son.”

 

Altair nodded. “When was the last time he came here to see her?” He glanced at the nurse’s name tag. Kadar al-Sayf and he tried to remember to write that name down later when he was back in the car.

 

“The last time was about… ugh, two weeks ago maybe?” Kadar rubbed the back of his hair. “He didn’t came very often, he usually just visited her on her birthday or on Christmas.”

 

“And her birthday was two weeks ago?” Altair pondered.

 

“No.” Kadar shook his head and stopped only to bend down around Mrs. Daniels and helped her to drink a bit of water through the sippy cup. “He came almost every week for the last three months, it was really odd.” Kadar shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly a secret to us that Mr. Daniels had a problem with drugs.”

 

“Why?”

 

“A few years ago we’ve caught him stealing medication from his mother’s roommate. He also looked like it – I know it sounds prejudice saying something like that but he really looked like it.”

 

“So why did he came visiting his mother so often then?” Altair asked.

 

“We’ve thought he made it. He looked better, he was wearing new clothes, had gotten a haircut. We’ve thought he’d finally found a job and maybe said good bye to the drugs.”

 

Altair personally doubted that – not after what Leonardo had told him about  Daniels at the free clinic. He’d probably just found a better drug and a regular fix. He shrugged with his shoulders. “You’re Mrs. Daniels caretaker, yes?”

 

Kadar nodded. “I’ve been her nurse for the last five years ever since I’ve started working here.”

 

“And she’s afraid of people she doesn’t know so you’re with her when she gets visitors?”

 

Again, he nodded. “Yes and I know what you want to ask, I was there when her son came visiting her. They didn’t talk.”

 

“No?” Now that was surprising.

 

“Not one word. I mean, she’s an old lady. She maybe has a year or two ahead of her, maybe less. He wasn’t a stupid guy, he knew. I think he just came here to…” Kadar sighed. “I don’t know.”

 

“Was there anything else that was unusual about him? I mean you’ve said he changed clothes, did he have a new cellphone or something like that?”

 

Again, he shook his head. “No, not that I’ve noticed but he used to come with the bus but for the last three months, somebody was driving him here and picked him up afterwards.”

 

“Who?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kadar said, “It was black, something fancy; I never saw who drove the car.”

 

“If you can think of something else, give me a call,” Altair said and handed him over one of his cards. He turned in front of the wheelchair holding out his hand for Mrs. Daniels to shake. “It was nice meeting you.” But she simply looked at his hand, then at Altair – her eyes dull and empty, lifeless as if she’d already died ten years ago. Which was probably true. Altair sighed. “Thank you for your help.”

 

xxx

 

 “Jonathan gave me her laptop,” Walker said as Altair dropped a bag of sandwiches in front of him. “And the only thing I found aside from a bunch of spam mail are a few confirmation mails from her registering to some clubs.”

 

Altair didn’t look up, pulled the bag towards him and started unwrapping his sub. “And then I checked Daniels laptop again,” Walker continued and took the other half of Altair’s sub without asking. “And guess who got registered to the same club as her?”

 

He bit into his sub, the lettuce crunching between his teeth.

 

“Altair.”

 

He picked at some crumble sitting at the corner of his lip and licked it off together with some leftover of chipotle sauce.

 

“Altair – I’m going to kick your ass so bad if you don’t answer me right now.”

 

There was the faint dull stab of pain to the back of his head and it was like an accident, he knew it was terrible and he didn’t want to look but he just had to. His eyes rolled upwards for just a brief moment to catch a glimpse of Walker’s sour face staring at him. Bad decision.

 

“Look, Altair. This is just what happens when you don’t know when to back up. You’re a Dominant, you should be in more control of your temper,” he said surprised.

 

He was still saying nothing and one could easily mistake Altair’s behavior as pouting, just as Walker did right now but he was far away from doing that. Truth was, he was probably more ashamed of his behavior than he’d ever like to admit. Submissives didn’t act like that in front of a Dominant, they didn’t constantly talk back and they certainly didn’t try to argue with them – at least not when they were well behaved and Altair remembered how Desmond had told him more than just once that he was nothing but a wild beast who was in bad need of somebody coming and taming him. A Fix up was only so much but it wasn’t the real thing – it was the emotional connection between a sub and their Dom which made a sub want to be at the top of their game. Altair didn’t have anybody who he could make proud and while people often mistook his bratty behavior as a Dominant who didn’t know when it was time to admit his defeat, it was nothing but a rebellion against everything the system stood for.

 

“Come on, don’t give me the silent treatment.”

 

But Altair did, keeping his thoughts to himself.


	5. Memories

\---

 

It were the little things he liked watching about Ezio. He was like a constant wave moving in low tides through their house with a smile on his face, and the moments in which his eyebrows were pinched to a small frown were rare like a picture set out of its frame, not fitting Ezio’s behavior. He was a good one, Leonardo knew that the moment he’d met him five years ago although he’d always known he was there, a small tingling reminder at the back of his head. His parents have done well, he came from a good house with magnificent manners Leonardo hardly ever had to correct. Ezio was born submissive but his parents made sure to treat him right and like a stallion who needed taming, his parents have taken care of that by finding him the right teacher, the right Fix Up ever since the time’s been right for that. Leonardo could tell Ezio was in tune with his self when he’s met him, a shy look down to the ground with a pink shade of a blush standing high on his cheeks when he first laid eyes on Leonard and even as a submissive, Ezio was a man who knew what he wanted – Leonardo would gladly deliver. They had a good live, keeping it in harmony as best as they could, forming and shaping the world they lived in as much as possible.

 

But there were those times like right now, the wrinkles in Ezio’s brow deep with pursed lips as he was moving back and forth like an angry sea clashing against the shore. Ezio said, “I don’t like this. This is different. It’s too big.” He stopped pacing and stood in front of Leonardo, looking down at him sitting on the couch before whatever it was driving him out of his skin took over once more and set him back into motion. He rubbed his chin, a gesture Leonardo witnessed many times this late afternoon. Ezio was worried and Leonardo couldn’t deny him that.

 

“We’ve talked about it,” he said, trying to be reasonable but that was already lost and Ezio knew it with the way he was looking at him now, arched eyebrow and face painted with skepticism. They’ve talked about this, several times already but no matter what he did, Leonardo was not able to lift those worries off of Ezio’s mind – which disturbed him to a great deal. He could feel Ezio’s distress, tiny fingers clawing at his soul trying to pull it from his body, a gut twisting feeling that went against everything of his responsibilities as being a Dominant. He pat his foot against the carpet right next to him, his eyes lowering just for a brief second but Ezio didn’t have to see what he wanted, not when it was probably ringing at the back of his head like a warning red light what Leonardo was expecting of him. He stopped walking and turned towards Leonardo without moving his head, knees hitting the carpet in a soft thud as he submitted right in front of him, right where he wanted it. His fingers moved through Ezio’s hair, the strands feeling just as soft as silk. It was calming, a small gesture of comfort for the both of them and he could feel some of Ezio’s unease shrink to a tiny ball, a tight knot that settled deep in his lower stomach unable to be moved from there. Leonardo said, “We’ve talked about it,” again. He made sure to pick his next words wisely as he was forming the single letters in his head but no matter how he turned them, they all sounded the same, a small drop of bitterness for something that wasn’t excusable. He run his fingers down Ezio’s neck to the small bow there before pulling his hair free. “Nothing’s going to go wrong.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

 

He felt Ezio’s gaze on him, heavy and judging. “You’re lying.”

 

Leonardo’s fingers stopped combing through his hair, the tips resting on the rim of his collar; a present he’d gotten him two years ago to exchange the simple, golden collar around his neck that marked him as being Linked. “I could be very well telling you the truth.”

 

Ezio insisted, “But we don’t know that.” Between all the hurt, all the fear there was anger. It was an ugly feeling, one Leonardo despised the most and which ate away his mind. He thought it took some of Ezio’s beauty whenever he was angry – he didn’t like it when he was. Usually, he could do something against it but today seemed hopeless as he was the source for that.

 

“It could end two ways – you’re deciding to put my failing as an absolute.”

 

“I’m not doubting you.”

 

“But?”

 

“I’m doubting the circumstances.”

 

There was a smile stretching on Leonardo’s face, a thin one.  “Nicely put. I can control much, Ezio, but even that’s limited. But for everything else, we need to trust.” It was a small comfort and maybe even less than that but it was everything Leonardo could offer at the moment. “I know you trust me,” he added as an afterthought.

 

Ezio said, “I do,” and as he looked up Leonardo’s smile was mirroring on his face and he could even feel it blossoming at the back of his head like a small and delicate flower that yet needed to grow. Ezio’s chin was gently taken by long fingers, a thumb moving over his lip and following the line of the small beard he was wearing when Leonardo leaned close to his face.

 

“I’ll be gone till tomorrow night,” he said after he pulled away from their kiss, small and chaste. He hoped the feeling of it wouldn’t vanish too quickly, he’d need the memory of it for tonight, seeking his strength from it. “Don’t. Leave. The. House.”

 

\---

 

Stephanie was looking at him, uncertain and appearing smaller than she really was. He run his fingers along her collar, setting it the right way. “We’ll be waiting for you here.” She nodded, avoiding his gaze. He tipped her chin upwards, her eyes flickering. He leaned over, lips brushing over her cheek in a familiar little peck as he squeezed her tight once. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

He watched her curling her fingers as she pushed her hands into her lap, her shoulders and back tense as she straightened. She was a strong one, a fine one with so much potential and a bright future just ahead of her.

 

Leonardo’s gaze followed after her when she left the car, walking down the sidewalk before vanishing in a crowd of faceless people underneath a sea of a low orange glow from the streetlights.

 

A strong one, a fine one.

 

She could make it.

 

\---

 

Something went horribly, horribly wrong. Pain nagging at his insides almost made him double over if he wouldn't have managed to pull himself together the last moment  – his stomach was a mess, turning upside down and it was that feeling of deep _deep_ regret which made bile rise up his throat burning his insides. Ezio felt like a trapped animal as he passed up and down the hall leading to the front door, rising to his toes when he was standing in front of it trying to look through the small window at the top.

 

Leonardo was a good man. The best man – caring and loving. It was the reason why he did what he was doing; it was something Ezio admired him for, his bravery, the strength it needed. But he hated it. The slick constant feeling of pure _terrifying_ fear was slowly breaking him apart. He felt hollow and empty, thin. Like an old statue made of salt dough slowly falling apart.   

 

He pushed himself away from the door, walking back over to the living room. His own reflection in the smooth clean windows was greeting him when he looked outside and into the dark. 

 

\---

 

Ezio woke late the night with a terrible headache, skin prickling and it felt stretched and as thin as paper hurting all over as if he was running a fever. Sitting up in bed, he looked around with eyes quickly adjusting to the dark but the spot next to him was empty, still _of course_. Fingers were moving over wrinkled bed sheets, fishing a fistful of them as he pulled them against his chest staring straight ahead into empty space. The feel of regret, of bitter regret was invading all his senses and got to his stomach; he was hating this, every minute of it hating it.

 

Leonardo was gone and would be so for a long time – it left Ezio in a torturous bubble of _not knowing what was going on_ but _feeling everything that went wrong_. It was times like this where he regret having his Link and as he run his fingers over his collar to remember every little edge and detail of it, he sighed. With a soft thud his feet met the floor as he heft himself out of bed, ears ringing and head feeling thick. He wondered if this came close to anything when being Broken but he quickly brushed the thought away, that was a road he didn’t want to go down not even in his thoughts. He remembered learning in school that _back in the old days_ a common punishment for those acting against the law was to break their Link – carelessly sending innocent subs to death or driving an innocent Dom into madness because no matter how it was turned, in the end both of the Links got punished. It was a barbaric act of wielding justice, a long forgotten one by now but at times Ezio remembered it and how scared he was of it as a child, especially when he once stole a cookie from his mother. With the crumbles on his shirt came the regret and he ended up confessing his misdeed, his face a mess of snot and tears as he thought he’d now be punished and sent to death. When he thought about it today, it was maybe something to chuckle about but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth, a shadow lingering on his mind he couldn’t get rid of.

 

Ezio looked at his phone sitting on the bedside table. Angrily, he picked it up checking it for mails, messages, a SMS, anything – but there was nothing. There wouldn’t be anything until tomorrow night, mostly it’d be a short message from Leonardo telling him he just ended his shift and is now heading back home. Leonardo never was the man who wrote messages during the day nor did he call – he said it made him nervous having to check his phone every few hours and he was too impatient to type up a message, not used to operating a smart phone, not even after all these years of having one.

 

It was his own impatience driving him mad and Ezio wanted to cut through the strings holding him close to Leonardo’s heart while he only really wished for him to return already and tell him how it’d went.

\---

 

“I’ve thought you’ve had some of your men in there.”

 

The smoke was thick in the room, the heavy scent of alcohol lingering in the air. “You’ve said your men would be there if she’d get into trouble.” His tone was accusing but most of all, it was desperate.

 

La Volpe looked at him, a man Leonardo never learned his true name from but Fox, Fox was probably a fitting one. “It’s my business to know everything in this city,” he simply said with the cigarette loosely between his fingers, the blue smoke rising in front of his eyes as he stared at Leonardo from underneath his hood his voice drained from all emotions. He probably didn’t care about her, Leonardo couldn’t even hold it against him but they’ve had a _deal_.

 

“Then why,” Leonardo asked as he leaned forwards, desperate and bitter enough to maybe do something stupid, to maybe punch the Fox right in the face, “could that woman vanish right in front of your men’s eyes?”

 

La Volpe said with a waving gesture of his hand, “Maybe there’s a hidden room in the back we don’t know of or they escorted her through the back door and out into the alley.”

 

“I’ve asked you to watch that alley.” Leonardo gritted his teeth to the point it hurt his jaw. “I’ve trusted your information about the club’s setting.”

 

“They’re probably getting more careful.” La Volpe sighed deeply, getting tired of the conversation and he flipped off the ash from his cigarette. “Do you think what you’re doing would go without notice?”

 

“I haven’t done much yet.”

 

La Volpe offered a snort like laugh, his lopsided smirk setting his face out of place. “You’ve done enough to rattle their cage. You’ve bought five of them over the last six month-“

 

“It’s not much.”

 

“They’re probably more afraid of somebody like you than the police-“

 

“The police is a bunch of idiots,” Leonardo muttered. “This fucking ring is like a hydra – every time the police gets one of the guys a new one pops up right away. I want to get to the source. I needed Stephanie for that.”

 

“She was a tool for you but you’re still trying to convince yourself you’ve cared for her,” La Volpe tipped his head back and looked at Leonardo over the tip of his nose, lips pulled to a sort of fascinated smile.

 

Leonardo watched him, musing over the words. He thought for a moment how to reply to that without sounding like what La Volpe had just accused him of – and found it impossible. There was one thing he was wrong about though. “I did care for her,” he said after a while.

 

La Volpe said, “Because you care for all of them so much,” with a crooked smile pulling at his lips.

 

“Because I think we live in a world where people are not treated like cattle.”

 

“But that’s not true, is it?”

 

Leonardo pursed his lips, “No, it isn’t.”

 

\---

 

It was ugly when Johnathan came. Up to that point, Ezio still didn’t know what exactly had gone wrong but there was a lot of screaming, a lot of shoving and a lot of _Fuck you’s_ involved. He was sitting _-kneeling-_ like he’s been told to do watching the exchange spilling in front of him with every word soaking the very floor they’ve walked on every day. Leonardo’s hair was ruffled, skin pale and the dark rings underneath his eyes were speaking the obvious, a night without sleep and full of worries.

 

“She’s _still_ out there and scared to _death_! She wasn’t supposed to be taken!” Johnathan’s chest was heaving underneath his breaths and he was pointing towards something that wasn’t there. Ezio thought it looked so out of place with two men facing each other while their world was lying in pieces to their feet when they were in the middle of a perfectly cleaned living room. It just didn’t fit the picture of their little white house in a little suburb with a little white fence.

 

“I know.” Leonardo’s voice was the stone in a sea of wild unleashed anger. “We all knew the risks John.”

 

Ezio knew that was a phrase Leonardo said a lot – to himself, to Ezio, to John. Most of the times, Ezio believed him; now he thought it was something to sweep some of the guilt away. John snorted, said, “She always admired you for your ideologies. Steph was too good of a person to see the trap coming.”

 

“You’re in shock,” Leonardo answered while ignoring completely what’s just been said but Ezio could feel the flicker of guilt at the back of his head, tiny teeth sinking into his flesh and nibbling at him. “But what we need to do is to stay calm. The enemy is out there, not in here.” He pointed to the floor to his feet.

 

“How do you expect me to stay calm while time’s running out? We need to find her while I can still _feel_ here.”

 

“We’re not really sure about what they’re going to do – they could let her go.” A pitiful lie.

 

“Ha!” Johnathan crossed his arms in front of his chest; just so he wouldn’t hit Leonardo, but Ezio wasn’t able to tell that. “You know what? I think you don’t _want_ to look for her. You just want to stay in here and save your sorry little ass.”

 

“You better watch your language in this house,” _and especially around my boy_ but Leonardo didn’t add that yet Ezio could just as feel the words inside his head.

 

“I’m not one of your _subs_ you can tell what to do.” Ezio saw how his face was red with pure anger, lips pulled back to reveal white teeth and to Ezio, it held something animalistic as if he was about to throw himself against Leonardo and rip out his throat. “Did it never occur to you that you’re not one bit better than _them_?”

 

At that Leonardo took a step closer and Ezio held his breath, watching how he straightened his shoulders, chin up high as he stood so close to Johnathan they could be very well breathing the same air. “As much as I understand at what distress you are, you’re clearly overstepping your lines.”

 

“Does it hurt I tell the truth? Or don’t you want your puppy to hear it?” He gestured towards Ezio with his chin.

 

“You’re putting her in more danger if you go looking for her.”

 

“So you suggest for me to just abandon her?”

 

Leonardo didn’t say anything to that, lips pressed to a thin line and Ezio could see that muscle in his jaw twitching. _She’s already lost_ , he didn’t say it but Ezio knew it’s what he was thinking, not with the wave of guilt and sorrow crashing over him, pulling him deeper and deeper into Leonardo’s abyss. Johnathan nodded, “That’s how it is then.” He pointed his finger at Leonardo. “We’re done here.”

 

 

 

\---

 

Leonardo kept quiet for a long while after Johnathan was gone. He pressed against the front door with too much force to close it before shuffling back to the kitchen. Ezio knelt there, quietly watching with rising worry how Leonardo prepared silently some tea. He knew better than to ask for an explanation – it was Leonardo’s decision when to tell him. _If_ he whould decide to tell Ezio; it was an entire different question.

 

Ezio didn’t know Stephanie that good. He’d met here one or two times when she’s been here with Johnathan and most of the times, Leonardo had sent him doing chores when that was happening. He’d known the plan though and Ezio was informed of what’s about to happen, but Leonardo always made sure for him not to hear all about the details and he liked to believe it was for his own protection if things would go _really_ wrong. He watched Leonardo dipping his tea bag into a mug filled with hot water once he’d settled down on the couch once more. Deep wrinkles of concern let him appear older than he truly was when he stared into empty space, obviously with racing thoughts troubling his mind. “Do you think what I do is wrong?” Ezio startled when his words cut through the silence, a simple question with a heavy load carried to his ears. “I’d suggest for you not to lie,” Leonardo said quietly but with a warning.

 

“If you’re not doing it who would?” Ezio didn’t like answering with using a question but it was the only answer he could think of which made him sound honest. It wasn’t a surprise Leonardo saw right through his charade. He rose an eyebrow at Ezio. “Try again _boy_.”

 

Ezio took a deep breath in, his fingers curling above his thighs where his palms rested. He said, “I don’t think it’s wrong.” Leonardo looked at him before he continued, “But I think the more important question is if what you do is making a difference.”

 

“I don’t think-“

 

“Arno.” Ezio pressed his lips together after the letters had rolled over them.

 

It was just a single name but it built a wall right between him and Leonardo. Ezio looked at him, expecting one of those rare but violent storms of pure anger. It didn’t came, not today. “I’ve promised him,” Leonardo said. A simple answer for something so much complicated.

 

“And you’re trying to hold on to that promise to what costs?”

 

“Do you want me to stop?” Leonardo asked.

 

“Are you going to look for Stephanie?”

 

Leonardo sent him a glare. Ezio could feel the vortex of guilt, heavy mind numbing guilt pulling Leonardo _down down and down_ until he hit rock bottom, leaving a mess of broken shards behind. His gaze softened, his heart telling him the right answer. “Yes,” he whispered, hesitantly, timidly.

 

“The day you’re answering with no,” Ezio said his voice hoarse and his heart heavy, “I want you to stop.”

 

\---

 

 

Leonardo had made a promise he couldn’t keep and when he came to La Volpe, he’s never felt more defeated. “She’s dead.”

 

“That’s unfortunate.” La Volpe set his gaze on him, head cocked with a look of curiosity on his face. It was warm in his office although it always gave Leonardo the feeling of sitting in a pimp’s office, the big heavy red chair which gave the impression of a too small of a throne – but the high shelves that reached until under the ceiling loaded with books set the image of a pimp wrong. Crackles of burning wood in the open fireplace reached Leonardo’s ears, setting the whole situation in a too peaceful mood.

 

“The police spoke to me today.”

 

“Do they have a lead?” La Volpe folded his hands in front of his chest and at Leonardo’s nod, he rose his eyebrows.

 

“Not me,” he said quickly.

 

His eyebrows came down again, half a smile on his lips. “Good.”

 

“They’ve sold her.” A simple statement which only sparked a little flame of curiosity in La Volpe.

 

“She wasn’t on the list,” he said. “She’s Linked.”

 

“But somebody bought her. Who?”

 

“Why should I know?” La Volpe spread his hands in a gesture of defeat but the smile was still there as if it was glued on his face.

 

“Didn’t you say you know everything that’s happening in this city? That it’s your business?”

 

“Knowledge doesn’t come without a price.” He leaned forwards if only a little, elbows resting on the polished wood of his desk as he brought the tips of his fingers together. “Quid pro quo.”

 

Leonardo was reminded once more to not ever forget what kind of businessman La Volpe was. Not ever. “Spill it.”

 

La Volpe looked at him for the longest time – it was unnerving, a test maybe but Leonardo didn’t withdraw and held his ground. Eventually, the man moved and slowly reached for what looked like a casket, made of wood in the color of amber sitting by the edge of his desk. He opened it and pulled out a business card he pushed at Leonardo across the table.  “I’ve heard this is one of the places they’re using for pickups. Go there and you might find some of the answers you’re looking for.”

 

Leonardo looked at the card without making a move; La Volpe was still holding on to a little edge of it. “Why me?”

 

He offered him a smile. “I remember a time where you liked getting into the field.”

 

“That was before my responsibilities.” Ezio.

 

“You’re still picking up… uh… how do you call them? Strays? You’re still picking up strays occasionally.”

 

“Everybody needs a bit of guidance every now and then,” Leonardo muttered with narrowed eyes as he pushed a little deeper into his chair still refusing to take the card. “Why should I do your dirty work? Don’t you have your men doing this for you?”

 

“Quid pro quo,” La Volpe said again, a deep sigh forming on his lips.

 

“Did you forget you benefit from what I do?”

 

“It’s a dirty business,” La Volpe said, “but somebody has to do it.”

 

Leonardo looked at him across the tip of his nose. “I thought you have some morals.”

 

It made him chuckle, of course it did. Leonardo wouldn’t have expected any other reaction. The Fox was a man who guards his weak points, a man who liked to make himself appear untouchable. He did well with this. He said, “You see, moral is a fickle thing.” He made an invading gesture with his hand, pulling Leonardo closer by an invisible rope as his voice turned quiet. “Morals are like a prism, allowing you to pick the angle and color that suits you best.” He rubbed his index finger and thumb together as he leaned forwards on his elbow. “I never intended to be the good guy here.”

 

Leonardo looked at La Volpe, then at the card again. “What will I find there?”

 

“The question is who will you find there?” The smile was fading on his face, his eyes turning dark and it made Leonardo swallow thickly. “I’ve heard it’s a place an old friend likes to visit.”

 

“It’s-“

 

“There are rumors,” La Volpe nodded.

 

Leonardo picked up the card and slowly turned it between his fingers before reading the address on it. He looked up at the man. “You know,” Leonardo said slowly, “I’ve always thought of justice as white light.” He took the card and put it into the inside of his jacket and as he stood, he saw La Volpe gazing him with questioning eyes. “But white light can be broken.”

 

La Volpe called after him and Leonardo thought he could hear the smirk in his voice, “Justice sometimes hides underneath the colors of injustice then.”


	6. Little Puppets

“How many Dominants does it take to change the light bulb?”

 

With his arms crossed behind his back, leaning heavily into the chair and the faint smile -no, smirk- standing on his lips, Altair thought Walker was in too good of a mood this morning. His legs were resting lazily on top of the double desk they were sharing, and thick steam was still rising from his half empty cup of coffee. Walker looked at him, all expecting and almost too eager to tell his joke. His lips were quivering, chin trembling. “Just one,” Walker said eventually as if it was physically impossible to keep it in any longer, the words breaking through his lips, “telling the bulb to change itself.”

 

If anything, it made the corner of Altair’s lip twitch a little. Walker’s laugh though boomed through their small office, sending small vibrations through his body and deep down to the center of his stomach. It was the kind of laugh that was just too loud, too bright to ignore and one that made him wish to vanish on the spot. Luckily for him, it was a knock on the door which saved Altair from further embarrassment (or Walker, still chuckling and looking at Altair with the laughter slowly dying on his lips and coughing, nervously) and Lucy, who poked her head into their office. “Sir?” She was looking at Walker, she mostly did that and it almost seemed as if she was completely ignoring Altair’s existence that moment. “The lab called – they could restore some of the deleted E-Mails on Mr. Daniels laptop.”

 

The information pushed Walker out of his seat and up on his feet within a second. “Do you have them?”

 

Lucy walked further into their office, her hands which she’d held behind her back, slowly coming in front of her body, a thick stack of papers clutched between her fingers. She took one, two steps forwards stopping right next to Altair and handed them over to Walker. “All from the last six months, sir.”

 

Walker took them out of her hands, then dropped them onto Altair’s desk rather clumsily. The look he sent him was full of _You’re going to work on this_ , and Altair sighed as he slipped higher against the back of his chair pulling his legs up. It wasn’t easy nor wise to argue with Walker about things like this – and his lip was still healing after their last demonstration of power exchange. No matter how those fights started, Altair barely stood a chance to win them. He was, after all, not a Dominant. No matter how much of a strong sub he was, he was only pretending to be something that would never happen. There was only so much one could do to trick his primal instincts into believing something he was not. Especially when he was running low on his Fix Up.

 

He hadn’t seen Leonardo again. It took Altair exactly five days to forget about everything that happened when they’ve met and how good it’d felt, and now two weeks (or more like, sixteen days) had already passed. He hadn’t went back there to drop down on his knees to beg for something he didn’t want (but what he needed). It was easy to ignore the pull against his mind which tried to lure him back into the arms of the man, when he wasn’t running high on endorphins again. It was always easier when he put a wedge between his true self and what he wanted to be. Altair knew he was maneuvering himself into a bad state by doing this – the voices already were cutting through his head and made it impossible to hear his own thoughts. But pride and stubbornness were a dangerous combination for a sub who didn’t want to admit who they really were.

 

“Do you think you’re able to finish looking through them today?”

 

Altair’s head was pulled up by invisible strings when he looked at Walker standing in front of his desk. His first instinct was to wrap his tongue around the letters of a Yessir– in the end, he shrugged his shoulders and twisted his lips to what looked like a snarl. “We’ll see about it,” he said.

 

“I’d rather have you finish it today.” It ended most of the times like this – Walker was setting his ground without even doing much. But he was making perfectly clear who was in control here and Altair, as needy as he was (always needy, every day but suppressing it well, swallowing it down and burying it deep at the bottom of his stomach) reacted to it oh so well, his nerves singing high.

 

“I could offer my help, sir.” Lucy, who was almost too small to be noticed still standing in the office as well. Two pair of eyes were set on Walker, waiting for an answer. In the end he was sighing, going for the small kitchen unit they shared at the department to get new coffee (even though he still had some left) and Altair, silently slipping out of the room to get to a quieter place, together, with Lucy.

 

xxx

 

“We need to narrow it down,” Altair said once they sat, too close to each other for his liking, at a small table in an office not bigger than a storage room with flickering white light above their heads and a window sitting too high as if Altair could look out of it, even when standing on his tiptoes. He was fumbling with a bright yellow marker, his fingers wrapped tightly around it as he pressed them against his lips looking at the papers in front of him.

 

Lucy said, “We could sort them. Maybe make a pile with mails from friends and people we know were in contact with Daniels. Then family members, bills, business…” She sighed and blew a loose strand of hair from her face. An afterthought followed and by a short glance up to Altair, she added “Sir.”

 

“You don’t need to call me that,” Altair said, softly.

 

“It doesn’t feel right when I don’t sir.”

 

Altair stilled his movements with his fingers brushing against the paper as if to smooth out a wrinkle that wasn’t really there. The last time he’d called somebody sir and meant it, had been his father, shortly before he finally moved out. He’d never called him dad or father, always sir, ever since he was old enough to keep his memories close to himself. Sir was a title Altair wouldn’t use easily – and certainly not by his own free will. But if he was running low enough, when it got too bad for him with the walls coming closer, turning his world into a small cage – when he was _desperate_ enough he’d do it, even sink down on his knees. He’d felt desperate a lot when still living with his father. “Don’t call me it,” he said eventually.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Altair looked at her, her eyes lowered towards the table. “Sorry.” It was spoken so softly he almost didn’t hear it but the sound of people walking outside hammering into his head. “Maybe I should go,” she added and Altair was about to tell her no and stay, but she added, “And get what the lab could get from Stephanie’s laptop.”

 

He looked after her but didn’t stop her from doing so.

 

xxx

 

“Altair?”

 

He looked up, small eyes long face, ruffled hair and not enough coffee running through his system. Altair felt the headache building behind his temples.

 

“Come here.” Walker stepped back from the door but kept standing outside in the hall, the door ajar.

 

Altair, about to get up, forced his legs back underneath the chair and hands flat onto the table for a bit longer. All of his instincts picked at Altair’s soul and tried to rush him out of the small _storage but really it’s a tiny office_ -room. Yet he kept still, not moving for a whole of three breaths and ten more seconds. Lucy was sighing across of him, her marker scratching along the paper was the only sound cutting through the voices mumbling in his head. Eventually, with a screeching chair, Altair stood.

 

“What?” Altair closed the door behind him, arms crossed in front of his chest, shoulders straight, chin up.

 

“Found something?”

 

Altair looked at him. It took three staircases, two security checks and a walk along the courtyard to get to where Altair was. Walker could have just picked up the phone and ask Altair what he’d found so far. Or sent him a text. “Why?”

 

“Garnier just let me know he’s going to close the case if we can’t come up with results.”

 

It took Altair a moment to process the words because no matter how he wrapped his mind about what Walker’s just told him, they didn’t make any sense. At all. It wasn’t as if Garnier made a lot of sense these days, to Altair it was still a mystery how he’d gotten into the position he was in right now the first place. He was a ruthless man (at least in Altair’s eyes) who’d walk over corpses in order to get what he wanted. He was a man Altair couldn’t stand being in the same room with, a fearsome Dominant who has tested Altair’s strength to stay in his role more than just once. A man who possessed this look that whenever he laid his eyes on Altair, he was afraid of him knowing who he really was – that, of course, wasn’t possible as Altair didn’t believe the stories about Sentinals and their existence. Still, his mere presence left a bitter aftertaste in Altair’s mouth that was hard to swallow and forget about it.

 

“Why?” He asked eventually although he could already think of an answer.

 

“He’s already pissed we’re looking into the Daniells’ case”, Walker said and by the simple rotation of his hand it was obvious how much of a say Altair was about to have in this. A drug addict (or from what Altair believed, a recovering drug addict) was the kind of person Garnier didn’t think of worthy.

 

“He’s already pissed by just getting up in the morning.” He run his fingers over his mouth and down his chin, eyes fixed on that loose top button of Walker’s shirt. He wanted to fix it, to reach out and run his fingers along the fabric and flat seam. The button was about to tear, dangling loosely from a single thread. By the end of the day, Walker will have probably lost it.

 

“He is but he’s still holding us by our balls and-“

 

“Sir.”

 

Altair had rather felt her than hearing her speaking behind him. Lucy was like a shadow, constantly there even when not always be seen. She stood there, eyes wide with a light blush standing on her cheeks, parted lips. If he looked closely, he could see her pulse flickering above her neck underneath her skin. “There’s something you should look at.”

 

He was about to wave his hand at Walker, gesturing him to go inside but stopped mid-movement when he felt her gaze heavy and pregnant on him. He walked over to their desk, looking at the latest paper Lucy’s held in her hands, eyes scanning the parts she’d marked in bright yellow. “That’s Stephanie’s credit card bill.” Lucy nodded, walking closer and reaching for a stack of paper. She handed it over to Altair, “And Daniels’ private emails.”

 

Walker hovered behind Altair, his shadow falling over the papers plastering the small desk. “So?”

 

“Stephanie’s credit card was charged with 24 $.” Her finger, elegant with a perfect manicure, moved across the paper to point at a specific date. “Daniels’ credit card was charged with 24 $ the same day, twenty-three minutes earlier.” Lucy looked up at Altair, loose strands of hair falling into her eyes. “It doesn’t say a name but it’s charged from the same address.” 

 

“I know this one.” Walker wedged himself between Altair and Lucy. She straightened her shoulders as if Walker was pulling strings when he placed his hand on the small of her back. “There used to be a club, uhm, I think it was before your time, Altair. It’s been empty for six years now since Garnier stopped the drug cartel from selling their shit there.”

“I can see Daniels relapse but Stephanie?” Altair rose an eyebrow, thoughts toppling over in his mind and forming to one thick, gooey ball that got stuck to the inside of his head, pulling at his nerves. He rubbed his forehead. “What was she doing there?”

“Nobody buys their drugs with credit cards-“

 

A set of cold eyes turned onto Walker, shutting him right up for once. “I know.” The words were pressed, sharp to the edge and cutting Altair’s throat on their way out. “But what I meant, could it be they’ve… sort of… re-opened?”

“Doubt it. Since Garnier practices this zero-tolerance shit, drug crimes have gone down by thirty five percent.”

 

“Then it’s probably not drugs.”

 

They turned, slowly, towards her and she stood there, quickly crumbling underneath their gaze like old, dried up salt dough. One hand reached up, rubbing her arm, lids falling while a blush was crossing her cheeks. Altair was the one to speak first when Walker was still trapped between debating if he should correct her or just discipline her, “What do you mean?”

 

“I just thought- the only connection between them so far is the walk in clinic and that they both spend money at the same place, on the same day almost at the same time- Stephanie wasn’t one who used drugs but she was somebody designated to help people. Daniels was a recovering drug addict and in need when he met Stephanie.”

 

“So?” Walker tapped his foot against the ground, arms crossed in front of his chest as Lucy grew smaller underneath his eyes within the second.

 

“I don’t know sir,” she finally said and Altair felt the lump forming in her throat, an invisible collar pulling tight around her skin cutting of the air.

 

“Stephanie was sold as a Beta.” Heavy stubbles scratched across his skin as he rubbed his chin. “Daniels-“

 

“Daniels wasn’t Linked.”

 

“You pay twice the price for Betas.” Altair said it with bile rising at the back of his throat.

 

“Daniels was damaged anyway – everybody can afford to fuck a drug addict. If you want the real deal-“

 

Altair’s raised hand cut Walker off. “What if it’s true and he bounced back into his old life – and he talked to the wrong people… He could have rat out Stephanie.”

 

Walker said, “But then it would have been stupid to kill him if he’s the guy to organize new merchandise.”

 

“So somebody’s made a mistake.” Altair set his eyes on Walker. “We need to find out who.”

 

xxx

 

If Altair could live on his hate for Garnier he wouldn’t need to worry about another thing in his life. Only right now, hate wouldn’t get him anywhere as he needed Garnier on his side, for once. But from how red the man’s head was and how his chest was heaving underneath deep breaths as he walked up and down behind his desk, it seemed nearly impossible. The door to his office was closed but Altair could still hear people talking behind it and the constantly ringing of phones.

 

“It’s probably something that leads us to more than just Daniels’ and Stephanie’s murder.” It was Walker speaking, always calm always rational Walker – or, at least he was so with Garnier. Walker knew how to handle him, didn’t have the invisible collar around his neck pulling him down and made him cave in to something that shouldn’t be there. The struggle was there for Altair, all too real were the strings making him move like the puppet he didn’t want to be.

 

Garnier stopped with his pacing, turned just for half a second to offer Altair a half-assed glare before giving Walker his full attention. Altair has long gotten used to it, knowing all too well Walker was the kind of Dominant that could fill a whole room with his presence. “It’s a waste of time.”

 

“It’s a lead we have, sir.” Walker stood with his back straight and arms folded behind his back. “And if our theory is correct, your face could soon be all over the newspapers titled as this city’s new hero.”

 

Now that was a bait Garnier could hardly ignore. There was no such thing as letting the chance pass in which he could shine in the spotlight. He was too much of a narcissist. He passed a look between Altair and Walker. “And who’d be the decoy?”

 

Walker opened his mouth but Altair was the one stepping forwards, “I am, sir.”

 

Garnier, shaken by unbelieve, simply rose an eyebrow. “You?”

 

“Is there something wrong sir?” Altair played dumb, stretched his back so his chin was up higher in the air, both legs even on the ground. “I wouldn’t be wearing any microphones or cables, of course, because of the body check at the entrance. But I’d be in contact with Walker who’d be waiting two blocks further down the street. I’d do nothing more than observe for an evening and see if there’s anything interesting that could give us a helping hand in Stephanie’s or Daniels’ murder, sir.”

 

“We could step aside protocol sir,” Walker added and took a step forwards, almost touching Garnier’s desk with his hip. “If you authorize the operation, the district attorney doesn’t need to know a thing. It’ll be one night, a few hours in the evening – if we come back with information, inform the district attorney. If anything goes wrong,” and at this, he gave Altar a quick side glance, “you’ve never given your permission.” Which would save Garnier’s ass. They were gambling here, Altair knew that but he’d gotten too tired, too worn out than to deal with all those John and Jane Does week after week and month after month.

 

Altair saw the thoughts inside Garnier’s head turning over, weighing each of his opportunities. In the end, it was easier than he’d have thought.

 

Garnier nodded. “Aright”, he said slowly. “But you better come back with something we can present the press.”

 

 

 

xxx

 

 

“You’re leaving again?” _You’re leaving_ me _again?_ But Ezio didn’t say that, not again, not when Leonardo knew exactly. Instead he added, “Johnathan was here this morning.”

 

“Did he threaten you?” Leonardo was fixing his tie in the mirror, glancing at Ezio once before he focused back on his task.

 

“Her funeral was last Wednesday.” He watched Leonardo’s hand stilling for a moment, then, with a frustrated sigh, he pulled at his tie again only to start doing the knot once more over. “It wouldn’t have been wise of me to go there anyway,” Leonardo muttered.

 

“Probably not.”

 

“When will you be back?” Ezio was right behind Leonardo when he stopped checking his own reflection as he put on a hat, pulling it a little too deep into his face and covering his eyes. He reached for the umbrella, still wet from the last time he’d used it. With his suitcase in one hand, he turned towards Ezio, already about to pull the door open.

 

Leonardo said, “You’ll be here and wait for me, don’t you?”

 

Ezio, with hair still messy from a night filled with lack of sleep, wearing a jeans too casual for Leonardo’s liking, was rising goose bumps across his arms. “Yes but for how long-“

 

“Don’t you, Boy?”

 

Leonardo watched, with sick satisfaction, how Ezio swallowed, eyes dripping low for a moment with longs lashes brushing across his cheeks before he looked up again. “Yes Sir.”

 

Their lips met, too short for Ezio’s liking but too long for Leonardo to stand it as he pulled him close by the collar around his neck. “I’ll be back,” Leonardo said as it was everything Ezio needed to know at the moment.

 

 

xxx

 

 

He seemed so out of place Altair noticed him almost immediately. Tall, too tall with a suit too damn good than to be worn by somebody who’d come to a place like this. Too many rings on his fingers made him look like a pimp, but the fine glass of whiskey in his hand told there was class coming with him. He was sitting alone at a table not far from the bar but not all the way up at the back either. Just the perfect spot to keep an eye to the exit and entrance, tracking those who’d spike his interest. Altair’s been in here for almost twenty, maybe even thirty minutes – twenty-eight minutes too long for Altair to not notice him. He wasn’t as focused as he used to be, not when he was in such a bad state as he was right now. Altair was slacking in his duty and it could cost him more than just his job. Yet, he didn’t move when he felt his gaze fixed on him, a born Dominant oozing power out of every cell of his body.

 

People were making room when he walked up to Altair, parting like the sea as if he was Moses himself. When he finally reached him, he felt like falling to his knees and praying. Altair was alone with his back against the wall, facing a Dominant that was probably too strong for him to have a chance against. He pulled his shoulders up just enough to make it look like as if he tried. But on the inside, his knees were trembling and his primal urges pulling him towards the ground while the ‘Sir’ was forming at the tip of his tongue followed by the hot _burning_ compulsion to please. “You seem lost little sparrow.”

 

It was the understatement of the year and all of him screamed that yes, yes! He was lost but now was found and he’d happily let him put a collar around his neck and drag him to the next best place.

 

Instead Altair tipped his head back, watching him from across the tip of his nose, eyes half-closed, lips pulled back in a snarl. “Says who?”

 

“Says the man who can see when a sparrow is trying to be an eagle.”

 

Altair blinked. One time, two times. Three seconds turned into four and the clock was ticking while he was running out of options. “Excuse me?” Back straight, chin high – and not backing down.

 

He smiled. It was one that could disarm you within half a second. It sent goosebumps down Altair’s spine while a knot was forming deep down at the very pit of his stomach. He started to feel sick. He stepped closer still while Altair’s shoulders were brushing against the wall. “My name’s Robert and I think you’re just the kind of man I’ve been looking for tonight.” He held out his hand, Altair took it, slowly and shaking it with a strong grip. Robert was stronger, of course he was but Altair tried desperately to hold onto the image of him having a chance with a plan that was doomed right from the very beginning. He swallowed down everything that might ruin the night for him and forced a smile upon his lips, one that would cut Robert immediately. “Is that so?”

 

In Altair’s eyes, Robert had never heard of personal space ever. The small of Altair’s back was touching the wall and his chest felt too tight, too uncomfortable in Robert’s presence. His world was shrinking and he should probably get out while his feet were still able to touch the ground. But then Robert said something that actually let him remember why he’d come here in the first place, made him recognize the heavy feeling of his officer’s patch pressed tight against his chest underneath his shirt, “The kind of man that could be interested into what I might have to offer to him.”

 

Altair forced his brain into motion to send the right signal to his feet and stepped forward with Robert moving back even if it was probably nothing more than just an inch. He turned just so, his shoulder pointing at Robert’s chest, “I’m not interested in drugs.” Altair made to move past him. The hand on his chest added no pressure, wasn’t resting heavily on him but the touch was still enough that it could have burnt him. Robert could have used just the tips of two fingers, it would have made Altair stop just the same. “Drugs are not what I’m talking about, Mister…?”

 

Altair swallowed back his name, “Then what is it?” He focused on the spot right between Robert’s eyes. Robert’s lips pulled back just enough to reveal a prefect row of white teeth with one golden tooth standing out from between the others. He chuckled softly and said, “Now that’s a conversation I want to have with you in privacy. Can I treat you for a drink maybe?”

 

xxx

 

“Anything special for you tonight?” She was flirting with him with the way how she leaned onto the counter, the way how her lips pulled upwards, one wink too much and a shirt that was clinging too tight to her breasts and revealed too much of them.

 

“Beer, that’s all.” He sat down onto the barstool.

 

She ignored the foul look on his face and went ahead, “Rough night, huh?”

 

“Just the kind of night that leaves you frustrated.” He reached for the beer, the bitter taste touching the back of his throat and reminding him of better times, of better nights and when everything had seem so much easier for him, for them. A puddle of water had formed to his feet, his hat soaking the counter. The light was reflecting in tiny drops running down his bottle of beer and eventually was blocked out by a shadow forming behind him. The bar stool next to him creaked underneath heavy weight and Leonardo watched from the corner of his eyes when he leaned heavily, tired onto the counter right next to him.

 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here again.”

 

“What would make you think that?” Leonardo asked, voice low and the pair of silicon tits vanishing out of his sight as the barkeeper went to the far end of the bar, treating the next costumer.

 

“I don’t know. Just how shit went down the drain as of lately.”

 

He pulled up his shoulders, muscles hurting from too much weight he was carrying. “How bad can it be if you’re still here?” Another sip of beer.

 

“I don’t know.” He sighed, it was a long one, a tired one. “Things are always bad if you’re trying to save the world, aren’t they?”

 

It made him smirk, hollow and lopsided. “I didn’t know you could be this poetic Malik.”

 

“You don’t know a lot of things about myself.” He rose two fingers when Silicon Valley walked right back and soon later, whiskey was served in front of him. It was gone in one go. “I guess Pretty Boy isn’t too pleased knowing you like to spend your nights with me rather than with him.”

 

“Ezio,” Leonardo said and chewed the bottom of his lip. “And I always have that feeling you’ve turned bitterer every time we meet.”

 

“Maybe that’s right.” Another set of fingers lifting up into the air, another whiskey served.

 

Leonardo said, “Nobody has ever lost their Link before.” Without them dying that is, but he didn’t need to say that.

 

“I’m the first then.”

 

It probably should have made him cry out with frustration but Leonardo wasn’t, not when he’d known Malik for so long now and got used to this kind of attitude. “You can’t lose a Link, Malik. You can lose a key, a wallet, but not a Link. You’ll find yours.”

 

Malik chuckled, “I could if my Link wasn’t hiding from me.”

 

“You’re stubborn,” Leonardo pointed one elegant finger at him, “that’s your problem.”

 

“You’re right,” Malik agreed. “It is my problem. And I will deal with it myself. So what’s it for tonight? The usual?”

 

Leonardo, nodding slowly, “Yes…”, and then, “No.” He pushed a napkin down on the counter reaching it over to Malik. “I’ve heard he’s back in town.” Out of the corner of his eyes, eyebrows rose and lips parted slightly with surprise – Malik, of course, was quick to hide it again and pressed his lips tightly together as he took the napkin. “So you mean he’s _allowed_ back in town,” Malik concluded.

 

“Probably spent enough years in exile to make up for his sins.”

 

“Maybe.” Malik pursed his lips, brow in deep wrinkles. “If I see him-“ His finger was still pushed down onto the napkin.

 

“When you see him you’ll know.” Leonardo played with the heavy cotton of his hat. “He’s always been a man you could hardly ignore.”

 

 

 

xxx

 

Things probably took a turn to the worse but Altair was on a lead to something and not backing down. As soon as Robert closed the door behind him, the deep basses of music were cut off and the chatter of people drinking and having a good time stopped and turned to a small memory at the back of his head. It wasn’t a small backroom Robert had taken him to. There was a bar at the far end next to the window, small but a bar. Long thick curtains kept the light of the streetlights out and instead created long shadows falling over high armchairs cloaked in reed smooth fabric and with paintings big enough to cover the walls from the ceiling to the floor. It was a private room, used for private parties. The ice in his drink moved and clinked against the rim when Robert put it down onto the small, round table standing between two of the armchairs. There was a sofa opposite of it, big enough to fit three people and Altair chose to sit there if it only meant to bring some distance between him and Robert.

 

“Do you want to know why you’ve picked my interest, little sparrow?” Robert sunk heavily into the armchair closer to the window, crossing his legs and Altair caught a glance of nice polished black shoes.

 

“I’m sure you feel eager to tell me any second.” Sitting felt better. Sitting was definitely better than standing on knees too soft to hold his weight. The door leading outside and into the main club right behind him made him feel save, safer and the familiar weight of his police patch resting above his heart was enough of a confidence booster. It could have been the drink too, a glass still sitting in his lap in his hands, barely touched but a small sip was enough to make him feel lighter. Compared to Altair, Robert was a giant of a man, big and bulky and his bald head made his eye appear all the more blue. It was an intense stare, a chilling one he was giving Altair. He was a capturing man, charming even – a Dominant through and through, and had the circumstances been different, he’d probably go home with him. A rushing wave of weakness washed over Altair at an interval of seconds. By any means, he was not weak and Altair constantly reminded himself of that. Maybe, after tonight, he should call Leonardo again.

 

“You’re feisty.” Robert revealed teeth when he smiled. “Haven’t been taught any manners yet?”

 

“I’m not a fan of small talk, that’s all.” Altair leaned back, tried to keep his shoulders down and relaxed.

 

Robert never stopped smiling as he rose his hands, crossed, up to his chin. “I was wondering about your collar. It seems like you’ve lost it.”

 

A cold fist was picking at his heart, crushing it for two, three beats. He didn’t blink, picked up his glass and let the amber liquid warm his insides. Altair offered a smile, small and innocent. “A collar doesn’t really suit a Dominant, don’t you think?”

 

“No. But it fits you, little sparrow. Because you are not a Dominant.”

 

“I might not be an Alpha but-“

 

The armchair was cracking when Robert leaned forwards, suddenly, and made him strop in his tracks. “You’re not an Alpha that is right. But I think you don’t understand. You’re a sub, trying to fit into a world you’re no part of.”

 

“If you’ve wanted to offend me you could have done so back in the club.” Altair kept his voice calm and even but rose his drink close to his chest, a ray of light falling through the slits of the curtains as a car was passing by outside.

 

“It’s against the law to take it off, don’t you know?” The smile in his voice was gone but it was still on Robert’s face and it set the whole picture of him into a wrong angle. Altair, unable to sit still and take a hold against the stare meeting him, crossed his legs as he changed his weight. He said, “I’m not sure I can follow you right now.”

 

“What happens, I wonder,” Robert said and he leaned further, resting his chin on palms too big for Altair’s liking, “happens to little sparrows like you who take their collar off?”

 

Altair, rising his head and not even thinking about taking a step back, not crumbling in front of Robert, not giving into him and that as smooth as silk voice, placed his drink down onto the table, getting too close to Robert in the process and caught the memory of his breath on his cheek. “I think you have the wrong impression of me. I’m obviously not the one you’re looking for.”

 

“But you are,” Robert said even as Altair stood and it was the ring of his voice inside his head that put invisible ropes around his body and kept him standing there, not moving an inch. “You are exactly the one I have been looking for. It’s been too much of a long time,” he added and the fact he was purring sent a trail of goosebumps down Altair’s spine. It wasn’t pleasant, at all. “I think I need to go,” Altair said.

 

His hand at the door handle, he heard Robert behind him once more. “You can fly for now little sparrow, but I will put you in a cage. Not today and maybe not tomorrow, but I will find you again.” It wasn’t a threat but a promise and both Altair and Robert knew that.

 

Voices were filling his head, thick blue smoke invaded his lungs as the door opened and one step sent him right back into a crowd of chattering, dancing people. They were moving like waves, swallowing Altair right away and he knew, Robert was there too, watching him from the door with half a smile on his face and a drink in his hand. He wasn’t following him as Altair hid in plain sight, trying to cut through people and pushing them out of his way. He didn’t have to follow him, he was already there anyway, right underneath Altair’s skin. Robert, Altair realized that, has been a parasite right from the beginning, planting himself right into Altair’s mind. For a man like Robert, it was easy to track him. He didn’t need to follow Altair, no. Chances were, he might come crawling back to him all by himself.

 

xxx

 

“Leonardo?”

 

_“Who’s that?”_

“It’s- it’s Altair, we’ve met and-“

 

_“Oh. I remember you. Leonardo’s not home at the moment. It’s Ezio speaking.”_

It sent a punch flying to his stomach. Ezio asked, _“Can I help you maybe?”_ Altair looked at his phone, hearing Ezio’s voice talking on the speaker. He felt sick to the stomach, worn out and tired, bile rising and-

 

He stumbled into an alley, his stomach’s contents spilling across the street, phone clutched tightly in one hand and it took him a minute, maybe two filled with him spitting to the ground and new vomit rising but he swallowed it all back, all of it deep down to the bottom of his stomach where he could burry and forget about it. The connection was still going when he put the phone back to his ear, “Never mind.” His voice hoarse and dark, filled with desperation and bitter sweet betrayal. He disconnected the call. When he rose his head, people were walking by the alley, some of them offering him a look but there was not so much than simple disgust written across their faces. He was nothing but a ghost to them, a memory soon to be forgotten as soon as he vanished from their sight. He should return to Walker, go to where he was supposed to meet him but his legs were of no use and he felt drunk, too drunk from that one tiny drink and too much hung over from Robert’s mere presence. He still felt his eyes on him, his very gaze staring right into his soul. This was bad. Very bad and while he thought there was nothing Robert held against him, the promise he’d made about finding Altair had hit home just too close.

 

Rain drove him out of the alley, pouring down and soaking him right through the bones. Altair looked up into the sky but within the city he could hardly make out the clouds in the orange and yellow glow of streetlights and advertisements. His feet carried him down the street, passing a sea of faceless people, their empty laughter reaching his ears and piercing his skull. In the end, his weight was too much, his mind too heavy as if he could carry himself any further. Against a wall he dropped down, next to the bins of an Indian deli, knees up and arms crossed on them, hiding from the world around him.

 

One thing was for sure, if he’d give up now, he wouldn’t have to come ever again to Garnier and ask for an operation like this.

 

Altair had perfectly mastered shutting out the world around him if it hadn’t been for his phone ringing one time, two times, three times. In the end, he couldn’t tell anymore how many missed calls he had, but on the very least, he picked up.

 

“Where the hell are you?”

 

Head up and eyes glassy and bloodshot, Altair looked across the street watching tabs taking on and off. “I-“

 

“Where the hell are you?!” Walker’s voice was too loud over the speaker. Altair turned the volume down.

 

“I- don’t feel so good Walker.”

 

“Altair, you make me worry-“

 

“I went home- Can we meet tomorrow morning?” His voice was trembling and Walker needed to be an idiot to not notice.

 

“Altair I don’t think-“ His voice came through the speak, softer now.

 

“Pick me up at nine, will you?”

 

For a moment there was silence and Altair knew, they were going against all protocol here but that had been the plan right from the very beginning, no? Walker sighed and said, “Alright.” There was a pause and then, “You’re home now?”

 

Altair lied, “Yes.”

 

“I pick you up at nine.” The call ended.

 

Rain was still falling and earth was still turning but Altair set still, motionless and he knew, Robert shouldn’t be able to crawl underneath his skin this deep but he did. He’d been right about one thing though; things really did have taken a turn to the worse. But the night was still young and not over yet and Altair had no idea how much his life could turn to shit just this one evening.

 

Life sure was a bitch, especially that moment when he noticed a pair of nice shoes in front of him and the rain stopping where he was sitting and the soft thuds of water hitting plastic. His eyes followed a pair of legs, traveled along a coat and thick scarf before they stopped on the man’s face holding an umbrella above his head. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll treat you for some coffee.”

 

Strings pulled him to action and Altair stood on wobbly legs, not resisting at all as he started to follow him.

 

xxx

 

The night was still young but it tasted like old, dead beer to his lips. For the fifth time Ezio had grabbed his coat and keys about to leave the house but every time he turned the lock, he’d close the door again, pull off his coat only to sit down in the living room to wait for another ten minutes. He put his coat away for good and sat in front of a turned off TV only to be startled by a ringing phone.

 

The caller ID was unidentified. Ezio said, “Hello” when he picked up, heart beating too wild, palms feeling too wet.

 

_“Leonardo?”_

 

Ezio sat down onto the couch, phone against his ear. A sick feeling was settling at the bottom of his stomach. “Who’s that?”

 

There was some rustling and then, _“It’s- it’s Altair, we’ve met and-“_

 

 

Ezio released a slow breath. “Oh. I remember you. Leonardo’s not home at the moment. It’s Ezio speaking.” He waited a polite set of three seconds before asking, “Can I help you maybe?”

 

Another set of seconds passed, another one following soon. “Hello?” He tried it again but was answered by the sound of wet splatting against stone and a dry heaving sound. “Hello?”

 

There was silence, followed by a short, broken, _“Never mind”_ , and with it, the connection ended. For a moment longer, Ezio stared at the phone in his hand before pulling out his cellphone and acting against one of the rules. He opened his messages and started to write Leonardo.


	7. Collars

Skin sweaty, pulse flat yet quick. Damp brow, hair stuck to the head in cold sweat, cheeks hollow and grey. He looked as if he’d already been eaten once than spit right out of hell’s abysm. The light was too bright, a shaking hand came up to shield his eyes and Desmond leaned closer to understand roughly mumbled words. “What was that?”

 

“Curtains- pull them close…” Altair’s head sunk back into the too big of a pillow, the sheets way too heavy on his legs and every movement, every brush of fabric against his skin felt like a fresh cut to it. He was falling in and out of a fever and it got worse within the hour. By now, the deep dark blue of the night had long turned into a greyish purple. The sun was crawling up the sky but was covered by grey clouds. Rain was falling at horizon and soon would reach them. Desmond stood, pulled the curtains close in one quick movement before his eyes, brows drawn tied with concern, settled back onto Altair.

 

Altair was falling back into sleep, a faceless dream pulling him deeper into the shattered state of his mind. Memories from the night prior melted together in one big mush of a nightmare. He’d seen Desmond looking down on him back out in the street next to that Indian Deli a dozen times in his dreams already, the words playing over and over again. Every time, he’d grabbed Desmond’s hand, every time he’d let him pull up. But while in reality, Desmond had brought him home and tucked him into his bed, in his dreams, Desmond’s face was sometimes turning, melting into an ugly grimace with black holes instead of eyes, a too big of a mouth and with teeth like fangs ready to eat Altair alive.

 

“Better?” Desmond’s words were like a whisper to the back of his head, not really there but sharp enough to pierce his skull. He groaned with a new wave of nausea hitting him right into the guts. His stomach’s contents were long gone and all which was left was the ugly white and yellow of bile which burnt his throat from the inside while rising. He missed half of the bucket standing next to his bed, some of it running down his throat too and he half-heartedly brushed it away with the back of his hand before falling into the mattress of his bed. 

 

Desmond’s feet were shuffling along the floor, busy steps crossing the room and for a moment, he’d thought there was a knock. He heard voices pushing through the door to his bedroom and up against his ear.

 

“For how long now?”

 

“Since last night. I got him home but he’s gotten worse since early morning.”

 

“He’s been drugged?” Fingers were creeping along his face, pulling down and up at the same time to creak one eye open. Through a wall of fog, Altair saw the familiar face of Walker and groaned. The bed was dipping low somewhere on his right side and Desmond’s voice was a lot closer when he spoke next, “No, I… He’s not been drugged.”

 

“Jesus, he’s burning up.” Walker pulled his hand from his forehead and Altair already missed the contact of cool skin against hot one, the touch of a Dominant’s fingers. “Why haven’t you called a doctor?”

 

“Doctor can’t help him.” But Altair wanted to disagree with Desmond, the doctor could help, he should call him. But his words were incoherent and half whispered, half groaned. Walker and Desmond didn’t even notice.

 

“He needs medication Desmond, something to lower the fever. Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him last night-“

 

“It won’t work.” Desmond’s voice rose, then grew quieter, and Altair could barely hear him anymore, “He needs a Fix.” It’s been getting worse, but Desmond didn’t say that. It grew silent around Altair, too quiet for him to bear and it was suffocating him. Walker sighed and it turned into something heavy the more the puzzle’s pieces in his head fell together to give the impression of the right picture. The bed gave away when Desmond got up and the familiar sound of wood sliding against wood filled the room as Desmond pulled the drawer open. It was the last one, all the way at the bottom of Altair’s drawer opposite of his bed and against the wall. It should turn his stomach into a tight knot but he didn’t possesses the strength anymore to even care. Altair was defeated, physically and mentally. It was just as simple as that.

 

It felt like an eternity for Altair when Desmond crossed the distance and stopped next to his bed, placing it softly down right to his pillow. He didn’t see it, but he heard the soft sound of metal clasps brushing together. It should have sent him back to another time when he’d slept during the day and partied all night. When weed was there to make you come down from all the coke you’ve had the night before, and you’d suck some dicks and eat some pussies just to be able to crash on somebody’s couch for a few hours or days (although, that hadn’t even been the bad part). It should have reminded him about the day when he’d found somebody to take it off of him. Back then, he’d thought he’d have had set himself free. Now, he realized by taking it off, he’d thrown away the key to the cage he’d put himself into.

 

“Oh fuck off.” The frustration in Walker’s voice was too sharp to the edge, followed by a confused, “Is this what I think it is?” The pause filled with silence was too long and Altair kept his eyes closed. He didn’t have the strength to open them anyway. He felt as if he was having the worst cold in his entire life (although Desmond hadn’t been wrong about when he’d woken Altair in the early morning, “You look like you’re dying”). This wasn’t good. In fact, he was walking among the thin border between light and shadow.

 

“It is,” Desmond said.

 

“He took it off… when?” There was curiosity among hurt and confusion. But mostly, there was true, deep concern in Walker’s voice.

 

“About eight years ago.” Desmond said it so casual but after such a long time, he’d gotten used to it and to tell Altair how big of an idiot he was for doing so. Altair wouldn’t exactly agree with Desmond that moment but… yes, he might have made a mistake.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Yeah… exactly,” Desmond agreed. “I don’t know what to do, he’s been bad before but never like this, you know?”

 

Altair swallowed, it hurt doing so. His fingers curled around the hem of his blanket, and one leg stretched out underneath it. He took a deep breath and above Desmond’s talking, he managed to say one word. “Leonardo…”

 

Both Desmond and Walker looked down on Altair, Walker crouching next to him with his elbows leaning on his bed. “Call him. Please.”

 

“Leonardo?” Walker searched Desmond’s eyes for the answer but he was already up to Altair’s drawer where his pants were, reaching for the phone inside in one of the pockets. Thankfully, it got answered after the second ring.

 

xxx

 

 

It was close to nine and Leonardo thought about how he finally understood what it meant to ‘get old’ – at the moment, he certainly did feel old, way too old to keep doing this. In about three hours he’d be starting a forty eight hour shift at the clinic, after spending most of the night with very little sleep. From what he’d heard on the phone, three hours probably wasn’t enough to solve the problem but he could try it, and trying meant everything if some help could come along with it. His fingers moved, Ezio shifted his weight behind him. He looked over his shoulder and offered half a smile, “You don’t need to worry, you look great.” It wasn’t really an understatement, he looked wonderful with the nice buttoned shirt and the nice little waistcoat with the good pair of dark jeans (although Leonardo would have preferred a good pair of trousers). Ezio’s choice of the clothes for the day was held in simple colors, black and white – the only little patch of color was the red ribbon to keep his long hair back and out of his face.

 

“My looks are not my concerns,” Ezio said but Leonardo knew that. He gave a little tug to the leash resting between his fingers. “Sir,” Ezio added.

 

“We’re just helping Boy. Nothing for you to fear.” He knocked against the door, once, twice. He was nervous himself but swallowed it all down for Ezio’s sake. He’d done this many times before but knew ever since meeting Altair the first time that the boy was special – and in this case, it gave him a gut wrenching feeling he could hardly ignore.

 

“I’m not afraid, I’m-“ Ezio stopped. The door was answered and opened just far enough for a head to poke out to give them a quick onceover look. “Thank you for coming so fast,” he said and the door closed again only for the sound of chains rattling to follow before the lock turned and the door was opened wide. “Please enter.”

 

“Not sure if you remember me from the last time we’ve met,” he said, rubbed his hand along his thigh and held it out for Leonardo to shake. Of course Leonardo remembered him, but took the offer anyway and shook it. How could he not remember a face that made him feel as if reality was set into a wrong angle? The face of a boy yet an adult, with eyes too concerned and too many wrinkles from deep thoughts forming around them rather than from laughing. “I was calling you earlier.” He looked over Leonardo’s shoulder. He held his hand up again for Ezio to shake. “Nice to meet you, I’m Desmond.”

 

“He’s asked me to call you,” Desmond added.

 

“Took him longer than I’d have expected.” Leonardo did not waste time and followed Desmond inside, Ezio always two steps behind him. There was somebody else sitting on the couch in the small living room slash kitchen but Leonardo recognized him without thinking for longer than a second. “Mr. Bronsk. I didn’t expect you seeing here.” They shook hands once he stood.

 

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought when Altair said to call Leonardo it’d be you he’s meant.”

 

“It is a small world we live in, or so it seems.” Leonardo agreed. “You could say Altair and I have a small piece of history but,” he rose his hand, Bronsk’s mouth about to open to ask the question Leonardo already knew, “that is a story for our friend to share and not me.”

 

“Yeah but that’s the thing, he’s not in the condition to talk at the moment.” Desmond looked skeptical. Walker said, “He’s in a bad state.”

 

“I’d assume so,” Leonardo said in a more casual manner than he wanted it to sound. “He took his collar off years ago, even close friends and co-workers thought he’s a Dominant. Do you have any idea what willpower and strength it takes to fight against all your instincts? It’s amazing he lasted for so long to keep up his charade.” It was impressive, really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t straight down stupid to do so.

 

“So what are you planning on doing now?” Walker stood there, the small couch table touching his knees with the couch in the back. The concern written in his face was slowly replaced with judgement and suspiciousness. Leonardo knew, he was walking on very thin ice – he was the intruder here, one none of the persons present had a connection to, except for Altair. They were his friends, he was the guy who at least one of them had met at a bar and while he’d spent one night with Altair to help him with his matter, that didn’t mean it could outweigh years of friendship. He needed to take careful steps, negotiate. “May I see him first?”

 

Desmond was the one to step forwards, gesturing Leonardo to walk with him. He waited at the door to the bedroom when Leonardo took the leash off of Ezio’s collar. “Sit down and wait,” he said in a quiet, _close to his ear_ -whispered breath. “Be polite, but don’t answer personal questions about me or yourself,” he added before running the back of his fingers down Ezio’s cheek. The Boy nodded, lips parted for a quiet “Yes Sir.”

 

The bedroom was dark and rain was drumming against windows behind closed curtains. There was the distinct smell of vomit in the air, mixed with sweat. Drawers had been pulled open and a shirt was blocking the door’s wardrobe from closing. The desk next to the bed was messy with loose paper everywhere. There was a pile of dirty laundry at the end of the bed, wet shoes standing right next to it and Leonardo noticed the collar next to the pillow. The blanket gave the shapes of a body away lying underneath it. “May I?” He looked at Desmond first, knew he probably wouldn’t want to ask for permission but Walker and Desmond already got their chests puffed up with the need to protect a small, broken sub.

 

The cousin nodded, “Go ahead.”

 

Leonardo was greeted by heavy breathing as he sat down close to the pillow, the blanket slowly rising and falling. At least it were even breaths and he slowly, carefully reached out to curl his fingers around the blanket. “It’s me Boy,” he said in a far too quiet voice as if Desmond could understand him but he knew, Altair was able to pick up the words even in his current state. “Your cousin called me. I’m going to take care of you in a bit, alright?” He revealed a head full of messy hair and a face half turned and buried in the deep of the pillow. His lips were chapped and dark circles showed underneath his eyes when he slowly opened them. He was unfocused for a good of five or six seconds before he finally took the presence of Leonardo to acknowledge. “Leonardo…”

 

He shook his head and made a small soothing sound as if he were talking to a child. “I’m your Sir, your Master. Don’t make me repeat it Boy.” His voice was gentle still. “I’m going to collar you.”

 

“No, what…?”

 

Leonardo picked it up and pulled the blanket further down. “Yes.” He could see how clumsily the person who’d taken it off had worked. There were scratches to the surface and the lock was a bit jammed. He moved his fingers along Altair’s shoulder then to his neck just so he wouldn’t shy away from the touch. Altair did flinch but could hardly resist. Leonardo could have simply put it around his neck but that wouldn’t do the trick and wouldn’t work into his favor. “You haven’t been wearing it in a long time, I’m sure you’ve missed it.” He let his fingers wander along Altair’s throat, over the small curve of his larynx and down to the depression of his collarbone all the way to the neck of the plain simple shirt he was wearing.

 

Altair put his head back if just so and tried to turn from his side onto his back but stopped midway and gave up with a tired groan. “No,” he said it again, weak still but as stubborn as a child.

 

“But it feels good,” Leonard hummed soothing, fingers brushing back over his neck and throat only to start all over once he was done. “And I want you to wear it. Can you do that for me?” Altair didn’t answer but closed his eyes again. Leonardo knew he was still awake, Desmond still watching him from across the room while leaning against the door heavily. “I will put it on,” Leonardo said next. “And before I leave, I will take it off for you again. But now, I want you to be a good Boy and make your Sir proud.” There was no answer nor any other sign Altair had understood but Leonardo noticed his breath turning longer and his shoulders came down a little, the muscles relaxed in them. He placed his fingers loosely on Altair’s neck, thumb brushing over the spot underneath his ear. His other hand reached for the collar, the cool metal resting at first on his thigh to warm it before he moved it up over Altair’s arm so he could feel it.

 

“You’re a good Boy,” he murmured as he placed it around Altair’s neck so the lock was in the front. He flinched, eyes squeezed tight and there was a small change in the rhythm of his breathing but it lasted only for a moment. Leonardo closed the lock. “You keep this on for now and rest,” he said, his voice gentle still but growing louder. “I’ll be back soon.” Without sitting up, he turned towards Desmond. He didn’t have to look at Altair to know that he was lying silently there, not protesting, not fighting what’s been put around his neck. Leonardo knew, it must have been the first time in years for him to wear that collar – it was amazing, a bit surprising how well he was putting up with it.

 

Desmond was still standing there, watching and lips falling apart in awe and disbelieve. He knew as well and the ice underneath Leonardo’s feet had just grown a bit thicker.

 

xxx

 

“The collar is not helping with his physical state but it’ll have a psychological effect on him – if he’s going to respond well to it, I’m going to give him what he needs.” Leonardo pursed his lips and stared at the small table in front of him, his eyes darting to the ajar door leading to Altair’s bedroom. There were steaming mugs of coffee but none had touched them so far. Walker’s phone resting next to one of them blinked again, revealing yet another call but it was turned on silent. The officer gave it an annoyed look and muttered something about his ass and _Fucking Garnier_ underneath his breath. He didn’t answer it though.

 

“I don’t understand how you want to get him out of this, if you’re not his Link,” Walker said without looking at Leonardo but at his phone as he placed it back down onto the table after checking the number. “You’ve said so yourself, he’s far beyond the state where a regular Fix would help.”

 

“No, that’s right,” Leonardo said. “We have to get to the root of it, to his primal urges. Basic urges, really.” Leonardo shrugged. “Right now, I will start with aiming for his need to please. Let him bask in how satisfying it’ll feel overcoming his own limits.”

 

“And how are you going to do that?”

 

Leonardo smiled, but it was grim and dark, “The easiest thing would be to trigger his Link. But if he’s been suppressing who he is for so many years, that’s going to be tricky. I think first of all, he has to come to terms with who he is. Since you’re here and haven’t left yet,” he looked at Walker, “I take it you’re here as a friend, not as a cop?”

 

Walker nodded, a stern look painted on his face but none the less, honest concern was showing. Leonardo had seen that look many times, the last time he’d witnessed it has been back at a casual bar when Desmond had walked up to him and asked him if he might allow to introduce somebody to Leonardo. Things hadn’t been good back then, and Leonardo wanted to throttle Altair and yell at him how stupid he was for allowing himself to slide into such an unnecessary and easily avoidable mess.

Leonardo leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees and the tips of his fingers came together. “I can help him,” he said. “But I admit I haven’t seen a case like him before.” Although that was a lie but in times like these, sometimes the truth was better to be left out. “I’m certain he’ll come out fine in the end but it might take more than just one session.” He looked at Walker, then Desmond. When he leaned back, his hand gently reached out to rest on top of Ezio’s head with his thumb brushing over silken hair.

 

Walker said, “No. You don’t have to fix all of him today, but if I don’t get his ass into the station this afternoon he’s losing everything. Can you get him to function again before noon?” He pursed his lips and there was a mix of anger and determination in his gaze.

 

“I could try,” Leonardo said and reached into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. “But I hate making promises I might not keep.” He saw Ezio’s head turning, not more than an inch or two but he noticed none the less. There was also a quick exchange between Desmond and Walker before Desmond rose his chin at Leonardo. “Try it, please.”

 

To that, Leonardo leaned his head to one side, lighting his cigarette. Smoke was filling his nose and lungs and he tapped his fingers against his knee. For a moment he was silently smoking, brow in wrinkles as he was thinking. “Come here Boy,” he said after a moment, the words soft around the tip of his tongue and Ezio turned on his knees, facing him from his position on the floor. “I wonder what your thoughts are on the matter.” He watched with satisfaction how Ezio rose his brows in mild confusion. “Should I try and help him?” He spoke casual and low enough that it would give them privacy from Desmond and Walker. Leonardo might not show it but his heart was racing at the moment. He held his breath for a good of three seconds before he watched Ezio opening his mouth, “I think you should Sir.”

 

 

xxx

 

The rain was slowly dying but the clouds were still heavy.

 

“Do you know why I’m here?” Leonardo hadn’t expected an answer but still sighed when none was coming. He tugged against the blanket until it rested short underneath Altair’s chest. The muscles right above his jaw twitched and Leonardo could see how he was fighting to stay awake. He knew about the state Altair was in but wouldn’t accept such behavior. “You’ve been a very… very bad boy, Altair.” And at this, he blinked, small eyes turning to Leonardo. He said it again, “Very bad.” He rose his brows as if he was surprised Altair didn’t know himself when there was, for the first time, a show of understanding in his gaze. Leonardo nodded. His face came close to Altair’s as he leaned in. “Bad boys need to be punished Altair.” He whispered it.

 

He made a motion as if he was trying to get away and Leonardo took his chin between two elegant fingers. It didn’t take him much effort to keep him in place. “Do you deserve a punishment?”

 

Altair’s eyes opened fully, his breath bad as it reached Leonardo’s nose and he was certain, once he got some strength back into this boy he’d put him into a tub with an ridiculous amount of soap. He shook his head and Leonardo leaned closer still, his fingers moving from his chin and down to his collar to curl underneath it. “You think you did nothing wrong, don’t you?” A short nod followed, eyes lidded but with a low spark glowing in them. “But you’ve got your collar removed. Are you guilty of that?” Another nod and Leonardo smiled. “Then you did something wrong.” He chuckled, it was warm and he enjoyed it, maybe a bit too much, as confusion settled into Altair followed by a small wrinkle of his nose. He finally got the Boy out of his little shelter, his brain slowly starting to get back into thinking mode. It was a long way ahead of them but for now he was pleased that he got at least some little reaction from Altair. “You’ve broken the law. You’re a registered, collared sub and you somehow managed to get through life without anybody noticing. How many people did you pay to get where you are now?”

 

“Just one,” he groaned and Leonardo was pleased as he watched how Altair struggled to push himself up higher against the cushion. “One I paid to get new documents.” The words came broken, slowly spoken but Leonardo understood them just right. Leonardo asked, “How much?”

 

For a moment he thought and seconds were stretching longer and longer. It was difficult for him to search so far back in his memories but Leonardo felt confident enough to just _know_ Altair could do it. “Twelve hundred.”

 

Leonardo rose his brows and tugged against Altair’s collar. “I wouldn’t have thought you’re that cheap of a boy. That twelve hundred is all you’re worth yourself.” Leonardo scoffed and this time, it was true disgust showing in his voice. “Twelve hundred to deny your true heritage and true self. It’s sad.” He sighed, long and tired.

 

“It’s-“ Altair grew distant, Leonardo saw his inner eye turning onto an event long forgotten in his past. It wasn’t easy to erase so many years in which Altair had denied himself but it wasn’t impossible. The fact Altair had lasted for so long meant he was stronger than he actually knew himself. Never the less, there were actions which needed to be taken and Leonardo hoped he’d figured Altair out the right way, that he somehow managed to squeeze himself into his mind to take it apart bit by bit, only to rebuild it later.

 

“I _am_ punishing you Altair.” Leonardo was gambling, putting all his hopes and wishes on just one card. It was the only possibility how he thought he’d manage to get through that thick head of Altair’s. But he took a deep breath in, putting as much confidence as possible into his next words. He said, “I won’t allow you to wear your collar until I tell you otherwise. Wearing a collar should be a _privilege_ for you Altair. It is an _honor_.” The last words were spoken sternly, as if the mere force of them were enough to turn Altair’s thoughts around and towards a new direction. “And you’ve spit on that honor. You don’t deserve a collar, not until you are worthy a sub.” The clouds were moving across the sky outside the windows and a ray of light was falling through the curtains. “Your Link would be disgusted with your behavior.” He watched with keen interest how Altair slowly broke apart. Lips pressed tight together, eyes set onto an invisible spot somewhere on the blanket below his knees and avoiding to meet Leonardo’s gaze. Shoulders tight and hands grabbing the sheets underneath him way too hard. Thick, gooey satisfaction spread through Leonardo’s limbs, making his fingers tingle. It could work. “I know you’re not in an easy position and I won’t put you at any risks, I take care for my Boys and as I see you as one of them.” Leonardo licked his dry lips, exhaustion nagging at his insides. “I allow you to keep up with your charade at work. But outside of it, I won’t tolerate it.” He pressed two fingers underneath Altair’s chin and pushed it upwards so he was forced to look at him. “Do you understand?”

 

“Yes…” He whispered it.

 

“Yes what?”

 

Altair’s eyes moved and locked onto Leonardo’s face. “Yes Sir,” but it was a mere whisper again.

 

“I will take it off now,” he said it while leaning forwards, hands reaching for the metal. Leonardo was pleased, more than that and with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he found Altair flinching just as much as he had when he’d put it on. “I wonder,” Leonardo sighed, “because I could swear that an hour ago, you would have been so happy for that moment to come and now, you even seem a little sad. Is that correct?”

 

“I don’t know Sir.” At least it was an honest answer, an answer Leonardo would have calculated on. He didn’t expect Altair to do big steps. But he took some, little ones and he was certain he hit the right nerves. It might sound mean, but Leonardo felt as if he’d just scratched along a not yet healed wound. He was ready to tear it open again, to have Altair bleeding only to help him overcome it. It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do and maybe, Leonardo was ruthless for even trying.

 

The punishment might not have a strong effect on Altair now, Leonardo was not delusional. But days would go by and soon, the effects would start to affect Altair’s daily life, in a positive way. “You’re a stubborn little sub.” Leonardo opened the lock and took the collar off, placing it in his lab. “Your friends are outside and waiting for you, so there are two things I’m going to ask of you and I won’t repeat myself.” He took Altair’s chin again and made him meet his eyes. He was serious after everything he’d said today and he hoped Altair got that stuck in his mind. “You’re going to shower and put on fresh clothes. You stink Boy, terribly so. When you’ve done so, you’ll come meet us in your living room and I expect a dear, honest apologize for worrying your friends so much. Am I clear?”

 

He nodded, a bit stiff, “Yes Sir.”

 

“Good.” Leonardo let go, slowly standing on tired legs. He deserved a fucking cigarette so much right now.


End file.
